


Yěhuā

by Aviantei



Series: Xiān Kè Lái Verse [2]
Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Non-Shaman AU, Shibuya Operation - Story Storm, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: [Xiān Kè Lái Extras Collection; AU] In times before and after their goodbye, a lotus, an aster, and the wildflowers around them would still grow towards the sun. [RenxOC] [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm]
Relationships: Tao Ren/Original Character(s)
Series: Xiān Kè Lái Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514873





	1. 1-4

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on fanfiction.net between December 30, 2017 and March 10, 2018 for the 2017-2018 [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm] season. After working on Xiān Kè Lái a few years beforehand, I started thinking about more things in that universe, though they were mostly smaller snippets. Thus, this extras collection was born. As such, I'd really recommend reading Xiān Kè Lái first.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_1\. Lotus (1)_

* * *

Stepping inside the door doesn’t do a damn thing to the smell of smoke. Not even the undertow of restaurant food can put a dent in its odor. I want to go home, if for nothing else than some fresh air. My coworkers don’t even flinch at the smell. Several of them dangled cigarettes from their lips on the walk over, more for show than actual use.

Unperturbed, as this is the norm, one steps forward, does a quick count on his fingers, and asks for a table.

I don’t get out enough.

The atmosphere couldn’t contrast more with the flower café if one was painted black and the other white, but my brain insists on picking out the differences anyway. Beyond the smell, chatter seeps into every space, leaving no open air between trails of cigarette smoke. Just visible beyond the hostess, bottles of alcohol sit in rows under dim lighting.

A few minutes later we have a menagerie of tables assembled for our use, and everyone falls into their seats as if there’s a traditional pattern to it. I’m the odd one out, so I take the remaining chair towards one side. Our server asks for our drink orders, and someone who’s name I don’t remember calls for alcohol for the whole table and is met with cheers.

I grimace. This _was_ a mistake.

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” Heng leans across the empty table so I can hear his voice. Our cubicles used to be next door until I got promoted to work under Lu Yang. That didn’t stop Heng from inviting me out every weekend. This is the first time he’s succeeded. “Some of the guys get pretty stupid, but it’s just to blow off steam. You know how it is.” He offers a smile and a shrug.

I don’t know how it is. My usual weekend routine involves paperwork and exercise and checking in with Bai to make sure she’s still alive in Hainan. The last time I joined in on something even close to this was in Japan.

Everything that evening was Horohoro’s fault.

It’s not the truth, but things are easier when you say it like that.

I reach for my phone in my pocket, thinking of checking in with Bai early. She could fake an important phone call to me. She would also never let me down for chickening out on spending time with my coworkers. Not wanting to risk her teasing, I leave my phone be and focus on the cluster of people around me. On the other end of the table, a second server is checking for appetizers, and I direct my attention to the menu.

“No alcohol,” I mutter in response to Heng. He doesn’t seem offended. “I hope the food here tastes good without it.”

“Hey, we make decent money even without fancy promotions like yours.” Heng’s tone is light enough I can recognize it as a joke. So long as I keep to his pace, there shouldn’t be any trouble. “We wouldn’t just pick out a crappy joint.”

I put on a smirk, not even half serious. “We’ll see about that.” I feel a moment of tension and try to focus on my center. Heng takes the comment in stride. It’s a relief. Bai’s nonchalant attitude has spoiled me, and she’s been away at research for months.

Two months.

Long enough that her temporary period has passed.

Long enough to decide to stay.

There have been enough appetizer orders across the table that we might not even have room for the meal. I flip my menu over in pursuit of the drinks. Something strong to drown out the cigarette smoke, or at least make it tolerable. A potent tea would do the trick, though their selection of flavors isn’t every wide. As to be expected by a bar.

Trying to focus on the positives, I ignore the fresh beer set down in front of me and settle in for the long haul.

* * *

_2\. Lotus (2)_

* * *

The air in the garden smells like plants as I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. The afternoon sun leaves a wash of heat over my back. I try to ignore the sweat starting to run down my back and focus on the chi point in my stomach. The rhythm of my breathing suffers from the multi-tasking attempt.

Meditation is _hard_.

I shake my head out and focus again. This time, I start with my center, pressing an index finger several centimeters above my belly button. _This is my center. This is my focus. If I concentrate, I can make my energy flow._ The basic instructions from my father repeat as I poke deeper into my stomach to make the sensation last.

It’s almost like cheating, but not quite. I have to feel the spot to channel from it. This is the closest I can manage for now.

I resume breathing to push away my frustration. I’ve been practicing meditation for the past few weeks, but it still hasn’t clicked. I’m supposed to accept it’s difficulty because I’m so young. Mother’s told me that even adults have a hard time learning.

That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’ve made that clear.

 _Four counts in, eight counts out…_ I repeat the rhythm, waiting for the moment it clicks inside of me and becomes second nature. The numbers in my head blur together, instead steady drum beats. I still have to concentrate a bit, but I pull my hand back from my stomach, circling my thumb and index fingers to promote the flow of chi.

I think I can feel it. The peace my grandfather mentioned. I’ve gotten closer this time. I stifle my smile and excitement, not wanting to disrupt the cycle inside myself.

“Hey, Ren, Mom says you at least need to bring some water outside when you practice. It’s hot.”

My attempt at inner peace is left in ruins.

Jun’s voice heralds the coming of her shadow over me. I growl in the back of my throat and abandon my meditation. My sister holds two bottles of water, condensation already forming on their surfaces. The respite from the sun she brings is welcome, but her presence is not.

“I told you not to interrupt me when I’m meditating,” I snap, pressing my hands into my thighs. “You disrupted my chi.”

“Father and Grandfather don’t lose their focus when I say things to them,” Jun teases with a smirk. I duck my head so she can’t see the fresh wave of heat across my cheeks.

“I’m still learning!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She dangles one water bottle in front of me. “Seriously, drink up or Mom’s gonna scold us both. You’re my little bro. I still gotta take care of her.”

I snatch the water from her and undo the cap. _Just because she’s already out of primary school…_ It’s not the first time I’ve imagined the pluses of being the older sibling. We’re just a few years apart. “Yeah, thanks,” I say, because Mother will scold me if I don’t show my manners. “Now if you’re done getting in the way, get lost.”

Jun rolls her eyes and opens her own water. “I thought I’d meditate with you. Maybe it’ll help you focus your chi a bit better.”

I frown on instinct, but think about it anyway. Grandfather is out divining fortunes at this time of day. Mother has her own business to attend to, and I don’t want to chance being alone with Father. It’s just me, Jun, and the house staff today, and they make awful meditation partners.

“Fine,” I huff, and Jun settles down into the grass across from her, her skirt tugging as she crosses her legs. I pretend she’s not smiling. “Just don’t go disrupting my flow, you hear?”

* * *

_3\. Lotus (3)_

* * *

Finishing my cool down stretches in the park, I find a free patch of grass to sit down on. Autumn is still spluttering forward, kickbacks of summer allowing outdoor exercise. The heat in the air contrasts the decaying colors of the leaves. The dry grass beneath me pushes at my sweatpants but doesn’t poke through.

An exertion of very little effort later, and I’ve hit a meditative state. Most people don’t meditate between stages of a run, but I find the break in the exercise helps me keep a clear mind. Running shuts down my earthbound desires, and exposes irregularities in my chi flow. Other than the usual disruption from not spiking my hair, everything feels in place today. Several minutes pass, though I don’t know the exact number, and I open my eyes.

Bai squats in front of me, blinking every so often in a blank stare.

“I didn’t say anything, but you totally didn’t notice me,” she says in awe. You’d think there would be more fascinating things to look at than a man sitting around and doing nothing. “If I didn’t see you breathing, I would’ve thought you were dead. Still looked like you were in a coma, though. If anyone’s gonna get stolen from, it’s you.” She takes in a long gasp, excitement sparking in her dark eyes. “Wait, you think you’re more plant than human like that? You gotta teach me.”

“You wouldn’t stand a chance,” I say, poking her forehead. Bai’s shoddy balance topples, but she sprawls out on the grass, as pastel as ever. Giggles blossom from her mouth. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

It takes a sharp angle for Bai’s gaze to meet up with mine. She doesn’t even budge from the ground. “Shouldn’t you not be slacking off?”

I frown. “I was meditating, not slacking off.” I cross my arms, and a faint tug of tension pulls at my shoulders. I’ll have to do extra stretches when I get home, before a knot forms. “It’s a good relaxation technique and it keeps you balanced.”

“Whoa.” Something I said appears to be cause for Bai to sit up. “Did you just say ‘relaxation’? Tao Ren just said ‘relaxation’.” Bai glances around and to the sky, as if expecting a thunderstorm. “You sure you’re feeling okay? I hear that in some people stress builds up without them noticing, then it hits in unexpected ways.”

“You’re overreacting.”

Bai snorts at my blunt tone. “Sorry. But that’s so unlike you. You’re, like, always moving. Always.”

“You do know I have to rest to keep my energy, up right?”

“Always moving. Even at night. Tao Ren relentlessly works and is serious and never ever has any fun. His struggle has continued from birth and shall reach into eternity.”

“It’s a good thing you like plants, because you’d make an awful writer.”

“Not even poetry?”

“I’m gagging just thinking of it.”

Bai tosses some dead grass at me. Her aim is awful and doesn’t account for the lack of weight, so I’m spared from the potential itch. “Got it. I’ll stay the plant girl forever then,” she says, as if she weren’t planning on doing that in the first place. “If anyone asks, I’ll cite you as the cause. That’s your fate now.”

“Not the worst fate.” I toss my own handful of grass at her as I stand up. Bai doesn’t bother to brush it from her hair, her eyes focused on me. “Get to studying. I won’t be the cause of your grades going downhill.”

“Awww.” Her pout and whine do nothing to sway me from my second set of warm up stretches for the day. “You’re not gonna stay longer? I knew it, you can’t relax to save your life.”

I smirk, but the expression isn’t as condescending as it once was. “Just because I’m not _always_ moving doesn’t mean I’m not most of the time.”

I catch the traces of Bai’s eye roll as I jog off.

* * *

_4\. Lotus (4)_

* * *

After a month of being in London, I’ve been able to stop myself from filling out my assignments in kanji. In comparison to those characters and my native Chinese, the roman alphabet feels deceptively simple. The engineering formula I have to decipher my way through, on the other hand, feels a bit more tricky. I’m just glad math works the same way across the world.

This is the first of my two years of English and the penultimate of my studies. The passage of time isn’t lost on me, but I take another crack at my assignment before the soft chime of Lyserg’s phone alarm leaks from his pocket.

“Break time,” my study partner announces. Though a year younger than me, he has a much better head on his shoulders. He’s better at focusing than my friends in Japan by a long shot.

 _Friends,_ I consider, setting down my pencil for the moment. Even now, it feels like an odd concept.

Lyserg finishes setting up the cups on the table and pours some black tea from his thermos. It’s not my preferred taste, but he insists on sharing, so I don’t decline. We’ve been studying for over an hour now, but the tea’s held its heat.

I take a starting sip, careful to avoid burning my tongue, and Lyserg asks, “Any progress?”

I glance back down to my worksheet, glad that it’s the weekend and I have a few more hours until lunch to make progress.

Lyserg chuckles. “That bad, huh?”

“And I take it you’re doing the same?”

Lyserg’s laugh turns nervous. He’s been pouring over the same textbook since we started, and I see the several discarded outlines of an essay among his belongings. “You know, I thought business would be simple,” he admits. Having pushed my way through the basic courses already, I know where he’s coming from. “Maybe I should’ve become a detective after all…”

“Day dreaming’s not going to get you anywhere.”

My study partner flicks a lock of green hair from his matching eyes and puts on a brilliant smile. “That’s the point of a tea break, you know. To let your mind wander before focusing.” It sounds like something Yoh would come up with, just a bit more rational.

Not yet ready to work out the electrical diagram that goes along with the complicated equation on my worksheet, I make sure to take small drinks. Lyserg does the same.

Neither of us is satisfied when our cup runs out.


	2. 5-8

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

_5\. Lotus (5)_

* * *

“Whoa, spiky dude in the living room. Yoh, you did _not_ tell me about the spiky dude in the living room.”

Asakura’s infuriating chuckle grates into my concentration as I try to finish my reading. Class starts next week and I want to be prepared.

“Sorry,” Asakura says, sounding as lazy as he looks, stomach pressed against the floor and legs kicking in the air. Headphones moved to his neck for a moment allows his music to sneak out—some funk track from a record player that doesn’t look like it should power on, let alone play music. “Horohoro, this is our new roommate, Ren. Say hi, Ren!”

I turn the page of my textbook, regretting my decision of a tight budget. Funbari Onsen is cheap and close to school, but those facts don’t cancel out how annoying my host and housemate is. What’s more, Asakura Yoh is one of six. Based on his reaction, the second seems to be just as bad.

The newcomer to the room strides over to the couch and stands in front of me, his face entering my peripheral as he leans over and confirming my suspicion that he’s worse than Asakura, however that’s possible. Blue catches my attention, and I make the mistake of locking into eye contact.

“Horohoro” blinks twice at me, then scowls.

I don’t hesitate to return the favor.

“You’re reading a _schoolbook_ during _vacation_ time?” he gripes. “What’s _wrong_ with your head?”

“It’s called initiative,” I retort. A headache already pounds at my temples. I should’ve stayed in my room. Japanese insults come to mind faster than I expected. “I don’t know which part of the slacker brigade you belong to, but I intend to maintain my GPA this semester.” As if spurned on by the mention, Asakura props himself up on his pillow to watch the exchange. “Don’t go crying to me when you can’t keep up with the material.”

Horohoro twitches, leaning farther into my face. “You callin’ me stupid?!” The couch squeaks as I lean back from his spittle.

“Only fools fail to prepare for the challenges they know are approaching.”

“Well, well, don’t we seem to have energy today.”

Horohoro flinches at the sound of the voice, and Asakura attempts to slip his headphones back on and feign sleep. Kiyoyama Anna, Asakura’s fiancé and veritable slave driver, storms into the room with the force of an autumn typhoon. I don’t show it, but the anger conveyed in her even tone is just enough like my mother to give me chills.

_I really should have stayed in my room._

Anna tosses her hair and surveys us all. “If you have the energy to fight, you can do yard work,” she commands. “The weather’s warming up, so weeds are starting to come in. Clean the garden, then we’ll see after that.”

“What?” Horohoro protests in indignation. “I just rearranged the entire attic for you this morning. You seriously can’t expect—”

_Crack!_

The blue-haired menace is the first to fall to Anna’s sharp slap. “Any objections?”

Asakura, for once, doesn’t hesitate to ditch his headphones, not even bothering to turn the record player off before scrambling to the door. I take a moment to mark my spot in my book, step over Horohoro, and follow.

* * *

_6\. Aster (1)_

* * *

The doorbell rings and I answer the intercom. The speaker crackles, and Min Jia’s voice comes through.

_“Ready for pickup.”_

“I’ll be right down,” I promise, reaching for my bag. I forgot to empty out my school supplies, and the weight tugs on the strap. Min Jia will wait a few minutes. I upend the bag on my couch, pencils clattering as they hit the floor and bounce off the table. My wallet peaks out from between a biology text and a half-used notebook. I snatch it up, along with my phone charger.

Is there anything else? I can’t come up with anything, so I swing my bag up and head out the door. On the way down I tuck back stray ends of my hair and stop my dress from bunching up under the backpack strap. Yellow flower patterns glow in the sunlight as I step outside.

Min Jia waits by the front of the apartment and tosses me I wave. We step closer and exchange quick kisses, his fingers tangling with mine. “As cute as always.”

I tap a finger to his nose. “You’re cuter.”

“Not sure how I feel about being cuter than a girl in a mini dress,” Min Jia comments, swaying me back and forth. Our footsteps disappear into the afternoon crowd as we head down the sidewalk. I shrug. Not my fault he’s attractive. “Well, since we’re both on point, let’s go be cute somewhere together. We’ll get lunch, then hit the park. Sound like a plan?”

I smile, enjoying the sunlight and the promise of spring outdoors. Plenty of flowers will be coming into bloom at the park. Plus I’ve never been one to argue with a bite to eat.

“Sounds great,” I answer, and tuck into his side.

* * *

_7\. Lotus (6)_

* * *

Dinner at Funbari Onsen becomes a habit. I started joining in because Ryu is, surprisingly, a good cook. And in the months after that, I guess I’ve gotten used to the company. If nothing else, their chatter makes for background noise. I sip at my soup, keeping an eye on the sukiyaki in front of me for the right moment.

Horohoro’s chopsticks snatch the piece if beef I was eyeing, and I send him a glare across the table.

“Haven’t you had enough meat already?” I accuse.

Horohoro pauses with the beef halfway to his mouth, glances at me, and takes the piece in one bite, grinning. A growl rumbles in my throat. “You snooze, you lose, man,” he says, without any trace of apology. “I dunno what it’s like for you at home, but sukiyaki is _war_.”

“I’d like to see you talk so tough if Anna were here.” Our foul-tempered hostess has gone out for the evening with Tamao for a girl’s night. It’s the sort of thing my sister would like. I’m just glad for the reprieve.

Horohoro grimaces, but his next grab from the pot is a mushroom. I take the opportunity to snatch up some beef before it disappears. Asakura laughs, and Ryu takes his duty to add more ingredients to the pot. “No need to fight, there’s enough for all of us,” he assures.

That doesn’t stop me from hoarding the next few vegetables to my plate. “I’m surprised that Anna would let us eat like this without her, though,” Asakura remarks, nowhere near in a rush as Horohoro is. The sukiyaki doesn’t seem like as much of a war with just one participant. “I mean, she’s usually pretty tough with money…”

“Maybe something good happened?” Ryu asks with a shrug. “You guys are at the end of the trimester, right? Maybe she’s trying to treat you.”

Asakura stares into space, considering. Horohoro seems glad to just keep stuffing his face. “If you keep up at this pace, you’re just going to vomit,” I remark.

The Hokkaido native flips me the bird and keeps chewing.

“Well,” Asakura says, that stupid grin plastered over his face, “whatever it is, I’m not gonna complain. This stuff’s really good.” There’s something all four of us can agree on. “Hey, maybe if we all had girlfriends they could hang out. And we could do this kind of thing more often.”

Ryu’s chopsticks clatter to the table. Horohoro chokes while swallowing and has to beat his fist against his chest to dislodge it. Having no intention to get involved in such a stupid conversation, I add some chrysanthemum to my most recent catch of potato and enjoy the bite.

“Just shut up,” Horohoro wails, once he’s gotten use of his windpipe again. It’s a shame he didn’t choke. “You and Anna have that whole childhood sweethearts thing going on. It’s not that easy for the rest of us!” And Horohoro has tried, in spades. It’s tiresome hearing him whine about it.

Asakura tilts his head, rocking the headphones around his neck. “It’s not?” he asks. “What do you thi—Uh, Ryu, you okay?”

Ryu hasn’t started eating again, instead muttering under his breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d say his pompadour was drooping to match his mood. His crush on Tamao has gone unrequited for some time.

“Maybe if you fools put your energy into studying instead of women, you wouldn’t sound so ridiculous,” I add in, hoping to bring an end to this conversation. There’s only so much babble I can take. I’ll need an extra-long exercise routine tonight to keep the rubbish from sticking. “You _are_ in college to improve yourselves, after all. Try and put some effort in.”

There’s a stunned silence as the other three stare at me. I focus on the food in front of me, savoring my next piece of meat. Even with Ryu’s latest additions, we’re running low on supplies. This can’t last much longer.

“Is that your excuse, huh? That you don’t have a girlfriend ‘cause you’re not _trying_? You sayin’ you could get a girl if you decided to grace her with your presence?”

“You’re just too scared to try. There’s no way a guy with a shitty attitude like you could ever win someone’s heart. Don’t act so high and mighty!”

Horohoro and Ryu’s outbursts are accompanied by two pairs of chopsticks pointing in my direction. Asakura stays out of the accusations, though it’s not like he has a bone to pick anyway. That guy has his love life worked out. The other two are just venting their frustrations.

“I don’t have any intention of dating until I’m done with school,” I say. Ryu scowls. Horohoro mocks my words under his breath. “Yes, I plan to have a family one day, but that won’t be until later. But if you two want to waste your time on such endeavors, then by all means.” More than full after eating my share, I set my chopsticks across my plate and stand from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more _sensible_ concerns to deal with now.”

As I exit the room, Horohoro gripes, “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

Asakura laughs. “Don’t you think that seriousness is what makes Ren so cool?”

“Like hell it does!”

* * *

_8\. Aster (2)_

* * *

You’d think that after living in the city my whole life, I’d be used to the atmosphere, but it’s super different when you’re by yourself. Even with the fresh furniture funded by my parents, my new apartment feels empty. It’s full of things, but not much else. With the gap between high school graduation and my new schedule at university, I have too much time to spare. Not wanting to be stuck inside while the weather’s still nice, I grab my bag and head out the door.

Bodies press in from all directions, dragging in the August heat. The chatter and smoke and press of bodies don’t matter as much as the sunlight. Despite living in the same city, it feels like a different place. Funny how moving from one end of town to the next can do that to you. Making sure my phone has a full charge in case I get lost, I let myself get pulled into the flow of foot traffic.

 _Living on my own._ It’s a strange idea. But after Dad went to counseling, Mom spent all her time tidying things up. We didn’t talk much. It shouldn’t be so different to be by myself, but there’s something wrong knowing that there won’t be anyone cooking dinner when I come home, that there won’t be someone to share company with unless I invite someone over.

A staple of my life is now gone.

I haven’t even been moved for twenty-four hours and homesickness twists my stomach like pretzel dough.

Laughter and sunshine and potted plants speckle in my memory. I miss before Dad’s breakdown. That’s where I want to go back to. But it’s a place that doesn’t exist, and I’m too scared to build my own sanctuary. If I could, I would go to the greenhouse at school, but I’m not supposed to go back to campus until classes start. Fiddling with my phone, I look up florists, hoping for some sort of plant life to boost my mood.

A few clustered train transfers later and I’m back topside. The sun’s higher, the heat’s thicker, and the general attitude of people is unpleasant. Plenty are excited to be on their vacations, kids of all ages clinging to their parents, but most gripe about the heat. I fish a pair of sunglasses from my bag and try to follow the directions on my phone the best I can. The crowds push me against the storefront windows, and I catch the occasional scent of lunch wafting out the doors.

As I’m trying to decipher which street I need to turn at next, a swatch of color in one of the windows catches my eye, and I almost drop my phone. Someone pushes past me, and we knock elbows. Forgetting my intended path, I glace around and push back against the flow of people to stumble in the door.

The faint jingle of a bell signals my arrival. The door handle slips out of my hand. As it closes, the sounds of the outside world disappear into a vacuum, replaced by faint chatter and soft music. Mom never did any of the fung shei stuff, but I imagine this peaceful vibe is what that aims for.

Not that it compares to the flowers.

They’re everywhere, in the patterns on the walls to hanging basket arrangements to small pots on each table. And let’s not discount the window display I noticed in the first place. I close my eyes and inhale, and the subtle scent of blossom and leaf feels the most like home I have since I found the greenhouse during my campus tour.

“Um, ma’am, table for one? You’re free to sit wherever you like.”

When I open my eyes, a server is standing in front of me, concern across their face. I try to apologize, but get sidetracked by the gold stitched flower pattern across the pale green uniform apron.

“This place is perfect,” I decide. I can even feel the grin stretching across my face. “Wherever I like, hm?” I scan the tables and find one open next to a window, a placement of yellow-orange marigolds calling my name. “There,” I say with a point. “That’s exactly what I need. You have a menu? Thanks a bunch.”

The florist forgotten, I hum as I scan the menu in crisp summer sunlight.


	3. 9-12

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_9\. Lotus (7)_

* * *

The gap between the Chinese and Japanese school systems has left me restless. I took a few online courses to tide my over on the in between (Jun huffed and called me a workaholic, as if that were anything new), but the time has come to start physical classes again. I managed to reduce my belongings for oversea travel, and they sit in the truck behind me as I stare at my new lodging for the upcoming year.

Funbari Onsen rests behind a stone fence, the sloped roofs looking more like a historical site than a boarding house. The street is empty, and it would take at least five minutes to reach the next building. If anything, the isolation was a bonus when I searched the place up, and it has a decent travel distance to school. Since I’m here to focus on my studies, I don’t need much more than a roof over my head.

Finished sizing up my surroundings, I push open the gate. A stone path winds up to the entrance, surrounded by fresh spring grass. A few flowers poke their stems up from the beds lining the building. I cross to the entrance and knock.

No immediate response.

Taking into account the size of the building, I knock once more, this time harder.

Several minutes pass. Birds chirp in the morning air. The truck’s faint rumble, still on in the street, reaches my ears. Not even a fraction of movement comes from the inn. I know I informed them of my arrival. I even confirmed the details before my flight. Someone should be here to let me inside.

I give one last knock out of politeness, but my patience is running thin. I haven’t swapped out the SIM card in my phone yet, so calling isn’t an option. I have _plans_ for later in the day, like getting acquainted with the area and letting my family know I made it safe. Moving in is the priority, and I don’t plan on just sitting around.

I give in and open the door, revealing a sleepy looking guy, his hand raised up to where the door handle was a second ago.

The only words coming to mind are in Chinese. They’re not very polite, so it’s for the best. The person I can’t associate with a name yet blinks at me, opens his mouth to say something, and yawns in the place of words.

 _Unimpressed_ is putting it lightly.

“Oh, hey, you must be Ren, right?” I recognize his voice from speaking over the phone. This is Asakura. “Sorry for not answering right away. Anna left a while ago and I didn’t wake up. I was still sleeping when you knocked at the door.”

It’s pushing on ten o’clock. Even barring my flight, I’d have been up five hours ago. “Aren’t your end of trimester exams approaching?” I ask, once I piece the words together in my head. Speaking in real life is different from study, but I’m sure emersion will fix the problem.

“Huh?” Asakura looks stunned by my greeting. “But it’s Sunday…”

_This is going to be a long year._

I shake my head. Mother told me to be polite. Jun warned me I should knock off my foul attitude if I intend to make friends. Grandfather said there was a turning point in my future. Father didn’t even bother to show up, let along give me parting advice.

“Never mind,” I dismiss. Without time to style my hair on the plane, the locks brush against my neck. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to move my belongings inside. You should—could you direct me to my room?”

Asakura blinks once more. His eyes are the color of liquid honey mixed with cinnamon sugar. He leans to the side, catching sight of the truck behind me and waving to the driver—hired help sent along by Mother to help with the move. Asakura grins and waves. I don’t bother to look back to see the response.

My host’s brain catches up with his mouth. “Sure thing,” he drawls, sounding every bit like he could fall asleep in the doorway. From what I’ve observed so far, I wouldn’t be surprised. Just annoyed, really. “You’re gonna be upstairs, but there’s lots of space.” He steps back into the hall, waving me to follow. I gesture to my driver, and follow.

The stairs creak as we walk up them. I guess it’s meant to be part of the charm. Or, then again, this is just a boarding house now instead of an inn.

Asakura points to doors as we pass them, naming off the owners. “This is mine and Anna’s. Tamao’s is over here. Ryu and Horohoro are here and here, across from each other. And sometimes my family visits and uses those, at the end of the hall. Oh, I bet the guys are still here. Wanna meet them? Might have to wake them up, though.”

“I’ll pass for now.” I grimace at the thought of meeting more people with Asakura’s lackadaisical habits. Just dealing with one for now is annoying enough.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll see them. Anyway, my family sometimes comes and visits, and they use those rooms at the end of the hall. But this one—” He stops in front of a door, just a few off from the guys he offered to introduce me to “—is gonna be yours. Uh, it’s not locked, but I can get you a key from downstairs…”

I ignore is blathering and head inside. There’s plenty of open space, just like one would expect from an inn. It’s spacious for the price, which is part of what drew me here in the first place. Tatami mats line an empty floor, with no furniture to speak of. For being an unused room, there’s no dust, and the scent of cleaning supplies stings my nose. I cross the floor to open the window, letting fresh air in. An outcropping of rock peeks around the backside of the building, sheltering the hot springs. The same style of wall out front surrounds the entire building.

Asakura pads up to my side, grinning at the outside. “Not bad, huh? Not the best view in the world, but still nice for being in the city, I think.”

I chose not to tell him about the mountain-scape visible from my home in China, or the view of the night sky. “What about the stars?” I ask, switching back to Chinese before I can stop myself.

Asakura’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What was that?”

“Sorry. Still code switching.” The foreign apology feels stiff on my tongue. I turn around and lean against the windowsill, surveying the room. Its wide, rectangular shape leaves me enough space and then some. I start to piece together furniture arrangements, though things will change once I get things upstairs. “This place will do just fine.”

“Ehehe.” Asakura chuckles, looking all the world like a schoolboy who just got praised. “Glad you like it. Need help with getting your things upstairs?”

* * *

_10\. Lotus (8)_

* * *

Summer provides a short reprieve from classwork, but I spend most of my time in review. It’s with great pains that I’m dragged downstairs one evening by the rest of my housemates. I go, both because I need the bath after exercising and to stop their shouting outside my door.

Despite myself, I stay seated on the front porch afterwards. Horohoro and Ryu refused to let me go back upstairs. I managed to get out of playing with sparklers, though. Those two run around like idiots, and even Asakura dangles a sparkler between his finger, showing Tamao how to draw patterns in the air with the light trail.

Being farther north than home, the summer air in Tokyo feels almost temperate. It’s even nice after a bath. I sip at my milk bottle and contemplate how much longer I’ll have to hang around before I can get to bed.

“You better not,” Anna huffs, like she can read my mind. I’m sure Grandfather Zhang would love to have a chat with someone like her. The inn’s self-proclaimed hostess sits down on the porch, though she leaves a sizable distance between us. “If you run away they’ll make a ruckus all night. I don’t wanna hear that.”

I snort at her self-serving request, but make no move to leave. It’s not something I want to hear, either. Anna shoots me a sideways glare, but doesn’t physically retaliate. The evening seems to have put her in a good mood as well.

“You know that fiancé of yours would be part of that racket, right?” Even though I feel relaxed, the memory of Asakura neglecting his studies right before the break still has me on edge. He passed off with decent enough grades, and that just makes it more infuriating. I may be smart, but that doesn’t mean I don’t work to maintain my scores. “He’s just as bad as the rest of the lot. I don’t get what you see in him.”

I prepare myself to dodge as Anna lifts her hand, but she just folds it into a fist to rest her chin on. Hunched over, the indistinct pink and white pattern of her post-bath wear shine in the light coming from the window behind us. Her gaze follows across the yard to Asakura, and I think I see her smile.

“You’re right. He is an idiot.”

Her harsh words crush the mood.

“He’s also lazy and a pain in the ass,” Anna continues, not lost for insults to her fiancé as she is to the rest of us. “Somedays he makes me wanna tear my hair out.” I find that less likely than her tearing Asakura’s hair out in frustration. “But, when it comes down to it, he knows how to do what he needs to do. He just does it at his own pace.” Anna tilts her head back and gives me a smirk. “You don’t see it do you?”

“Not in the slightest,” I retort. I doubt I’ve ever seen that man work unless Anna’s cracking the reigns at him. I’ve lost sight of the number of times I’ve stumbled across him dozing in the middle of the day or lying around with headphones attached to that old record player of his in the past four months. And those are just the start of his lackadaisical hobbies. “You’re so ambitious it’s like you’re trying to make up for both of you.”

Anna lets out her own short, soft chuckle. “Maybe,” she allows. “But that’s the thing. Yoh is just…flexible. No matter what, he adapts things to his own rhythm. And because of that he’s always himself.

“He bends but he doesn’t break. That’s what I admire about him.”

I let the words sink in as I take another drink of milk. _Flexible._ That’s a rather positive way of looking at it. Once he gets into the working world, that attitude’s going to give him more trouble than not. Then again, the thought of Asakura in a traditional workforce doesn’t fit his image at all. He’s going to college for Anna’s sake, not his own.

Out in the yard, Tamao manages to draw a star in the air, and Asakura draws one to match it, just before their sparklers fizz out.

* * *

_11\. Aster (3)_

* * *

There are all sorts of different kind of greenhouses, depending on where you go and what they’re for. I’ve been in my fair share. Big florists with ground space tend to have rows of greenhouses, all set for different plants across different parts of the year. Some folks, like one of my high school classmate’s aunts, have personal greenhouses for their own use. Research facilities can even have major biomes, a way to recreate nature conditions for study.

I haven’t been in one of those, but the rooftop greenhouse at the university I’m touring is like the quaint, younger sister of that major biome, and I’m in love.

Outdoors its winter, the air spiked with just enough chill to make the street side trees wither. Plenty of flowers can thrive in an environment like that, but nothing beats spring. The artificial climate inside the greenhouse replicates the feeling of a warm breeze and sunshine perfectly, and I tug off my jacket. Tying its sleeves around my waist to free up my hands, I step along the open path, the familiar brush of leaves meeting my fingertips.

Bursts of color stick out from every corner, and I lose track of the plants as I list them off— _Orchid, aster, gladiolus, cactus, larkspur, marigold, acacia, lotus—_

“I’m going here,” I declare.

My tour guide (whose name I’ve forgotten amongst the flowers) stumbles over a pot from my words. It takes them a few moments to right themselves, and even then they’re left stammering.

I spin around to face them head on. “How much longer does the tour usually take?”

“Huh? About fifteen more minutes from here…”

“Great! Then we’ll spend the rest of our time here, and when we’re done you can take me back to the admissions office. I’ll fill out an application, and things will be hunky dory!” I grin. This place already feels like home. “Hey, you wanna take a seat? You look winded.”

My tour guide does just that, and I enjoy the first of many afternoons as one with the plants.

* * *

_12\. Lotus (9)_

* * *

“I’m going to study abroad.”

A stunned silence floats over the dinner table. Even my sister, in mid-sentence while talking to mother, stops. The server by Yúan’s side finishes refilling his drink and tries her best to not look like she’s running from the room. Knowing this sort of reaction was coming, I take a fresh bite of my plate of jiāng mǔyā, rolling the taste of duck across my tongue.

“See here, boy,” Grandfather Zhang says, recovering the fastest. I put my chopsticks down to listen. This makes it look a bit less likely that he’ll toss something across the table at me. “You can’t just spring this sort of thing on us. Start from the beginning!”

“Yeah,” Jun agrees, a stern pout already forming on her face. “You start school in, like, two weeks. When were you planning on saying something?” She sounds more hurt than angry. She wouldn’t hesitate to kick me under the table if it were the latter.

I hold back a sigh, catching Mother’s careful gaze on me. “I just sorted it out today,” I offer as an explanation. “I’m not going this year, but next. There’s several sister schools affiliated with my University. Since I’ve passed the language qualifications, they can send me to Japan, Britain, and America.”

Mother holds a hand to her mouth in surprise. “So many…” she remarks. I nod. There are more, but those are the ones I can speak the language in, and even then that’s pushing it. I have the year to practice my Japanese; I need more work on it to sound fluent than my English. “Have you chosen which one you’ll be going to?”

“All three.”

Jun swallows her drink the wrong way, and coughs to clear her throat. “Are you serious? Even you don’t have enough time for that!”

I keep my gaze even and tick off the numbers on my fingers. “The first year here, the second at Japan, Britain for my third, and America to finish off what’s left. That’s four, sister dear.”

Jun gives my hand a playful shove back to my side. “Show off.”

“Hmmm.” Grandfather considers for a moment, then nods. “Well, we do have the means to give you kids the best education possible, so money isn’t an issue.” With a house far bigger than most apartment buildings, I would say so. “It’ll take a lot of work to stay up on your studies in a foreign place, but you’ve always had good fortune in your future. I’ll have to do another reading to make sure, but I encourage it. Ran?”

Mother blinks at the sound of her name, as if she’s forgotten what it sounds like. “Well, Lián’s already done all the work to get approved. There’s no sense in stopping him,” she allows. She’s also correct. I have no intension of backing down. “Yúan?” Mother hesitates, like she’s expecting an argument.

I, on the other hand, came to dinner prepared for one. I glare at my father, who sits at the head of the table in near silence. His consideration takes far longer than Grandfather’s. “I suppose you’ll go even if I say otherwise,” Yúan rumbles. Jun tenses up beside me. I’m not scared anymore. “Then let me ask you. Why do you want to go?”

 _To get away from home_ sounds like a pathetic answer. I’m fortunate enough that’s just part of it. “With the field I plan on entering, I’ll need to be able to work on a global level,” I start, arms crossed. I keep steady breaths to hold my center. “I’ll improve my language skills and gain an understanding of other cultures. Both of these will be valuable skills, and I will use them to my advantage.”

It’s almost word for word of the essay I wrote while applying to the abroad program. Not that it’s what I say that matters here. It’s how self-assured I am, that I can show my confidence in what I’m doing. I’ve been told my arrogance would one day be my downfall. Here it’s my strength.

Yúan doesn’t say anything for a while. I click my tongue. “You’re right about me in one way, _Father_ ,” I grit out. The word sounds stale after years of disuse. “I’m going regardless of what you try to tell me. So you might as well accept it.”

Both Mother and Jun’s eyes flick across the table. Jun’s even chewing her lip. Grandfather surveys the situation from the seat across the table to me, but I can detect the shift in his old body to the ready combat stances I learned as a child.

“I have no objections to the matter,” Yúan says, and a collective gasp releases across the table. My father turns back to his food, Jun attempts to pick up her previous conversation with Mother, and the hired help eases back into the room once the area is deemed safe.

My sureness doesn’t fade once I’m back in my room and can reflect on what I’ve just done.

_Progress._


	4. 13-16

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_13\. Lotus (10)_

* * *

Even with the lights turned off inside Funbari Onsen, there’s enough artificial glow from Tokyo that it clogs the night sky. The stars, while visible, show off a fraction of their numbers, even in the bite of winter. It’s a waste to be on the back porch, but I’m too restless to sleep. Not that the pathetic expanse of sky is helping.

“Oh, you’re out here, too, Ren?”

I’m too distracted by my thoughts to cringe at Asakura’s voice. There’s one trimester left in my Japan stay. Next it’ll be Britain, from there America, cities both of them. Two years plus change until I can see the stars again. There’s no point in getting distracted over nothing.

Asakura sits down next to me and tugs his headphones to his neck. There’s not much difference between his rest wear and his everyday clothes, so it’s hard to tell if he’s ready for bed or not. Then again, he can sleep anywhere anytime, so it’s a moot point.

My eyes have adjusted enough to make out Asakura’s smile in the dim lighting. “You like the stars, too?” he asks. “They’re really pretty.”

I snort, but with half the force as usual. “It’s nothing compared to home,” I declare. “Away from all the people…the sky’s much clearer.”

“Yeah,” Asakura agrees with an easy nod. “I’m from all the way out in Izumo, so I get ya. You can see _everything_ out there.” There’s a lull in the conversation. I’m too thrown off to have a response; Asakura indulges in his own pace. Just when I think he’s dozed off sitting up, my host stands. “Hey, why don’t I show you something neat?”

I raise an eyebrow. “It better not be one of your Soul Bob records again.”

Asakura laughs. “No, something you’ll like. The best star gazing spot in all of Tokyo.” He offers me a hand, and I don’t need night vision to tell he’s got that stupid grin on his face. “I mean, I know you like to get your sleep, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

I consider it. I’m not going to get some sleep any time soon—my brain’s firing too much power into nothing. Maybe a short trip is what I need. It can’t be too far if Asakura’s willing to make it. And, I will admit, I’m tired of being so far from the sky. Even if it’s just for a moment, I’ll take the opportunity.

“Fine,” I say, bypassing his offer up and standing on my own, “lead the way.”

“Ehehe. Let’s get going.”

We split up for long enough to gather our shoes and jackets, then meet up at the front door. Asakura locks it behind him and heads out the gate. I follow in his wake, staying alert enough to not trail too far behind. Going out this late at night might seem dangerous, but I have enough kung fu knowledge to handle any problems. Asakura looks to scrawny to put up a fight, but his humming proves he hasn’t even thought that far. I recognize the rhythm from one of his records.

I didn’t bring my phone, so the travel time blurs in my memory. I know the surrounding area well enough, but after a while I lose track of which street is which. As we reach the end of the journey, I understand why: there’s never been a reason for me to come close to a cemetery in my studies.

Asakura walks in the entrance with the same ease as entering his own house. I know better than to be scared of horror stories. Jun told me our family’s history, worse than any ghost tale, back when I was still a brat. Taking a moment to pay respect for the dead resting her, I follow Asakura’s footsteps.

Being a Japanese cemetery, family graves form neat lines. The night air is awash with blends of leftover incense. Left behind flowers cast dark shadows across the pale tombstones. Dried out plant life rustles as nocturnal animals scatter from our presence. Asakura leads me up an incline, the outline of a tree crowning the top of the hill.

Once we’re at the crest, I realize how far away the city look, pinpricks of light against the backdrop of the night. I can’t hear the cars, the night life. There’s just nature and us, neither out of breath from our trek. I’m struck with the tranquility of it all.

Asakura raises his arm, the light color of his sleeve catching the light, and points skyward. “Look.”

I do as instructed. The view from Funbari Onsen doesn’t compare to this. Without the close cluster of other buildings, there’s enough dark to let the stars shine out. Not even streetlamps make it up here. A cold rush of wind blows past us, but I don’t bother to move. Asakura adjusts to stand beside me, and we spend what feels like an hour frozen in place.

I work the muscles in my jaw to comment, “It’s still better in Guizhou.” My voice fails to carry any antagonism at all.

“I bet,” Asakura agrees. “Maybe I should come visit sometime.” I fail to catch my snort of laughter. “I bet Anna would like a vacation. We could have a Funbari reunion.” What’s even going on in that head of his? I can’t comprehend. “Of course, you should come to Izumo, too. And I bet Horohoro’s got a great view in Hokkaido. Well, Ryu and Manta are from around here, so we can’t go anywhere fancy for them, but it’ll be a blast! Don’t you think?”

I look at Asakura, showing off his teeth in a perfect grin. I tuck my chin into my scarf so he can’t quite catch the smile. When did I start to feel so at ease around him? It couldn’t have happened so suddenly.

At some point, I’ve been sucked into Asakura Yoh’s pace.

“Sure,” I agree, casting my gaze skyward, “why not?”

* * *

_14\. Lotus (11)_

* * *

I reach up for the doorknob and turn it, making sure not to rush. I manage to go slow enough that the handle doesn’t click, and I push the door open with the same caution. The finale is slipping inside and shutting up without making a sound. I catch sight of Father’s unmoving back, the proof of my success. I pad across the floor in bare feet to sit behind him.

Father’s body seems tall even when sitting—a tower within his meditation room. There are few decorations, arranged to maximize the flow of chi, and incense burns from the shelf before him. Grandfather says that the frankincense is meant to encourage a state of calm and focus, but it just burns my nose. The yellow of Father’s traditional clothes seems bright in the dim lighting.

I stare at his back, trying to fall into the same pattern of relaxation. It’s hard. Most kids my age are getting used to attending school for the first time—but I’m not most kids. I’m a Tao, and that means I can do more than waste my time.

_And Father’s always busy, so this is the best way for me to spend time with him._

Time passes in an incense coated haze. My legs start to cramp from sitting still, but I don’t dare move. I don’t want to disturb Father, just spend some time with him. Keeping focused, I trace over the patterns on the back of his clothes, the tip of his hair distracting my attention.

I’ve seen it countless times, but the spiked topknot is one of the constants of father’s appearance, along with the curved ends of his mustache. I’ve seen my mother and sister with their hair down, but never him. My own hair hangs short, though I’ve brushed up spare ends in the mirror to see what it looks like before.

_Do I have to do it, too? Grandfather doesn’t, but he can’t because he’s bald. It looks kind of stupid, though._

“You’ve come again, Ren.”

Father’s voice breaks me from my thoughts, and I straighten up to the point you could hold a ruler even to my spine. Father’s turned to face me, but has kept most of his meditative posture. He looks at me, though, and I fish my voice from my respectful silence.

“I-I have. Good afternoon, Father. I haven’t disturbed you, have I?”

Father looks over me with a shake of his head. The hardwood floor beneath me feels uncomfortable all of a sudden, but I don’t dare move. “No trouble at all,” he answers. “I didn’t even hear you come in.” I smile a bit, but not too wide. I’ve been practicing sneaking into Jun’s room while she studies. “You look like something’s on your mind, though. What is it?”

I stop myself from jumping. It’s like Father can read my mind. Mother can do it, too, but this is just as scary. “Um, that’s…”

“Don’t be afraid,” Father coaxes, though I feel very afraid. But I behaved when I came in, so I shouldn’t get in trouble. “Ask away.”

Not wanting to start an argument over nothing, I admit, “I was wondering about your hair.” Father almost cracks a smile, but not quite. I keep my original observations to myself. “You and Mother and Jun all do it. What’s it for?”

Father strokes his moustache, fingers sliding all the way up to its extended tip. “It’s a form of chi concentration,” he says. “We have explained chi to you, correct?” I nod. Grandfather’s been explaining it to me between fortune telling lessons. I’m no good at predictions, but I understand the flow of energy. “Good. Essentially, the upwards and outwards direction creates a natural out in the body for chi cycle to. By having a designated focus point, it unifies the direction of chi in your body, creating a better flow.”

I nod again. It’s like comparing a lake to a river. The lake stays still, but the river flows towards an outlet.

“Different stylings can enforce a certain chi flow, too, but the overall effect is the same.”

I think to my other family members. “Like how Jun has three points and Mother has two?”

“Correct,” Father rumbles. I bask in the resulting pride. “For them, their varying points create a better result.” I frown a bit as I think, keeping my hands down instead of toying with my own hair. Father realizes before I say anything. “Are you interested?”

“I—A little,” I admit, muscles twitching from my urge to jump. I have too much energy, but I contain it. “If I did it, would it help me focus my chi better?”

Father’s hand moves to brush his goatee instead. Counting his moustache, that makes four points for him. I wonder what it means. “It should. Are you still having problems with meditation?” I want to deny it, but I can’t. Sitting still for so long is hard, and everything feels too distracting. “Having a chi focal point won’t eliminate the need for practice, but it will give you a better platform to succeed from.”

I knew there wouldn’t be an easy answer. Nothing can take the place of effort. But if I can make my chances better, then why not? It may look dumb, but it’s not like I can’t take it down if I don’t like it.

“Do you think…you could help me then?” When I pause, air feels like it’s frozen in my throat. Father doesn’t do much with me besides allow my meditation observation. He doesn’t do much with Jun, either, but I still don’t like it. I’m sure he’ll just tell me to ask Mother, and prepare to make my exit before he gets angry.

Father closes his eyes for a few moments, and I worry he’s started meditating again. I almost hold my breath so I don’t distract him, but he opens his eyes soon enough. “Alright,” Father allows.

My posture crumbles as I lean forward in excitement.

“I have a bit of free time this afternoon. I can help you. But not for too long, understand.”

“Okay—I mean, thank you, Father.” He doesn’t react to my lapse in speech, but stands. He waits as I do the same, and I stick close as Father puts out his incense and leads me from the room. In the halls, he pats my hair, checking the length as we walk.

“You may need to grow your hair a bit more, but I’m sure we can figure something out for now.”

I almost hope my hair isn’t long enough, so we’ll have to do this again later on.

* * *

_15\. Aster (4)_

* * *

“Merry Christmas, Flower Petal.”

“Merry Christmas, Min Jia.”

Greetings done, Min Jia holds open the door for me, and I step inside. There’s no snow outside, but the season has brought enough of a chill. Once the entrance is shut tight, I shed my jacket. Min Jia hangs it up and leads me to the couch.

Unlike me, Min Jia has roommates—a few buddies from his architecture courses. I insisted on coming over for the holiday anyway, just to get away from home. The roomies are out anyway, making visits of their own. They even cleaned up the mess, all traces of pizza boxes and stray dishes gone from the coffee table. I sit down on the cheap seating, and pat the faux leather by my side, urging Min Jia to cuddle up beside me.

I settle into his shoulder and Min Jia toys with stray ends of my hair. “So…” he stalls. “Halfway through our third year, huh?”

“Boring topic, boring topic!” I dismiss, sticking out my tongue. “It’s a holiday. Let’s talk about happy things. Oh, I know, let’s exchange presents already.”

Min Jia chuckles and tugs my ear. I pout and pinch his cheek in retaliation. “You just got here,” my partner scolds. I keep my tongue out as a form of protest. “Geez, keep this up and I’ll think you just came here for a present.”

“Oops,” I tease, snickering at Min Jia’s baffled expression. Serves him right. “Don’t be super silly. I came ‘cause you’re great company and being alone on Christmas was bumming me out. ‘Sides, it’s our first Christmas together, of course I wanna show off the awesome present I got you.”

Min Jia scrunches up his face in mock concentration. “Does this have to do with those matching bracelets you wanted to get?” he guesses.

“Eh, you thought I’d be sneaky and by myself a gift, too? Nope, this one’s just for you. Well, I benefit, too, but you’re the one that gets to keep the thing.” Min Jia’s confusion is real now. Hooked him. “Oooh, who’s impatient now?”

“Maybe you’re right,” he hedges, glancing to the bag I brought in with me. “Maybe we should start with presents…”

I wiggle my arms around his waist and tighten my hug. “But I just got here,” I protest, echoing his words. I press my cheek to his chest. He’s nice and warm, like a fresh patch of sunlight. His cologne is faint, but still distinct from the lingering fragrance of detergent in his shirt. “Cuddles first, present later. You’ll enjoy it more if I ramp up the suspense a little.”

Min Jia sighs and presses a kiss into my hair. “I’ll take your word on that, Flower Petal.”

* * *

_16\. Lotus (12)_

* * *

“Ren, Ren,” Joco says as he whips into the kitchen. The oil in the pan snaps, and I decide to focus on not burning the bacon. “I’ve figured out the best joke ever. Ready? Listen:

“Santa’s helpers…are _subordinate Clauses._ ”

“Go back to bed.”


	5. 17-20

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

17\. _Lotus (13)_

* * *

Funbari Onsen doesn’t have any cherry blossoms, but the surrounding garden sends fragrances even up to my second story room. The warm air slips inside as I look over everything one last time. All my furniture has been carried out, family sent help thudding around downstairs to get everything out the door. I packed up everything else and have double-checked so many times that I’ve lost count.

I’m certain I have everything, but I still hesitate to leave the room. While I know my ideal job involves travel, there’s not much chance of me coming back here once I leave. I grip onto the door handle, the now familiar press of wood against my palm, and slide the door shut.

There’s a gap between the end of the Japanese school year and the British one. I’ll be spending the next few months back home before I hop on another plane to start with summer classes. It’s the last such delay I’ll have to face in my studies, as the remaining calendars align well.

I’m halfway done with my program.

I’m leaving Japan.

_I’m leaving…_

I release the door handle, shoving my hands into my pockets, and keep my pace quick as I head through the hall and down the stairs. The last of the hired help nods in acknowledgement of the job complete, and I wave him to the truck, following behind. There’s still plenty of time, but I can’t run late for my flight.

Fresh sunlight greets me outside, the garden’s scents even stronger. I adjust my grip on my personal bag, shutting the Onsen’s entrance behind me.

“Oh, crap, he’s already outside.”

“Ryu! You screwed up the timing!”

“What the hell? You’re the one that distracted me.”

“Guys, he’s glaring at us…”

“W-we should try and—“

“Everyone shut up,” Anna snaps, and the collective group goes silent. To the side of the gate stands the entire Funbari Onsen household: Asakura, Horohoro, Ryu, Tamao—even Asakura’s friend Oyamada is present. I allowed their “going away” party the night before, but that doesn’t seem to be a good enough farewell for them.

“I’m not going to be late,” I inform them. “If you have something to say before I go, get it over with.”

I don’t catch the words, but I see Horohoro mumble something under his breath. Ryu sniggers. Tamao blushes and steps closer to Anna, as if for protection. Asakura pays them no mind and steps forward.

“We just thought we’d send you off,” he offers, grinning as always. “Manta’s got a car, so we figured we could take you to the airport and make sure you get there safely. You know?”

“Make sure I get on the plane safely,” I deadpan. Asakura looks worried about my reaction. Horohoro starts to shout something, but Anna’s elbow meets his gut, cutting the words off. I sigh. “You don’t need to do that.”

“We know.”

“So why are you doing it?” I know the answer. A year ago, it would have bothered me, that people would sacrifice their time for something so trivial. I wouldn’t have understood.

But he—

_Asakura._

Asakura Yoh smiles and says, “Because that’s what friends do for each other,” and I don’t have the mind to argue with him.

* * *

_18\. Lotus (14)_

* * *

“Ren? What’re you doing here?”

I stop a few steps up the library ladder. Our family’s private collection of books has enough paper for everyone, even the hired help, to be satisfied for life. The quiet makes it the perfect environment for schoolwork, but that’s not why I came.

“Research,” I half-lie, keeping my voice to a whisper. Unlike the school library, where paper whispers and student mutter to each other, ours is perfect quiet. “What’re you doing here?”

Jun frowns at me, placing a hand on her hip. “I heard you sliding the ladder around and wondered what you were doing over here,” she returns. Just because she keeps her volume down doesn’t take away the edge of annoyance. My sister examines the shelves, running her free hand along the spines. “Family records? What do you want those for?”

“School,” I say, keeping to my prepared answers. Again, it’s half true—but it works anyways. “We’re supposed to talk about our family history.”

Jun’s hand stills, her nails shining over the bookshelves. When she pulls her hand back, it’s free of dust. “Mmhmm,” she says, and I know she doesn’t believe me. “Why don’t you just ask Mom or Grandpa Zhang about it?”

The question catches me off guard. How was I supposed to predict a question like that, let alone come up with a believable answer? I focus on my center in an attempt to keep from panicking.

“Lián,” Jun admonishes.

“Run,” I counter, echoing her disapproving tone.

My sister shakes her head and leans over to make eye contact. I hate how much taller than me she is. I’m still on the ladder, too! It’s bad enough even the girls in my grade have the height advantage. Mother says the girls get their growth spurts first, but even among the boys I’m small. I haven’t heard the end of it for weeks.

Among other things.

I inhale through my nose, but even then my breath shakes. Jun puts a hand on my shoulder, her expression giving way to a smile. “I know, I know, Mom and Grandpa are busy.” She doesn’t bother to suggest our father. Jun jiggles my shoulder. “So I’ll tell you about it, okay? It’ll be more fun than reading some musty old books.

Abandoning my futile search through the family records, I hop off the ladder and let Jun lead me to her room. She catches a servant on the way and asks them for afternoon snacks. A few flights of stairs later, and Jun ushers me to take a seat while she pulls out her low table.

I feel out of place among her pale green walls. A partly cloudy sky and traces of mountaintops through the window are framed by her darker curtains. Plush dragons stare at me from the bed with button eyes. A few books sit on the floor by her bed, one sitting open. Jun’s own backpack sits by her desk. No wonder she saw through me; I didn’t have any school supplies.

I expect further scolding when Jun sits across from me. She looks serious enough. The silence tugs out until she sighs. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re really trying to look through the family records?” she asks, voice soft.

My eyes shoot down before I can stop it. Jun doesn’t push further, just waits. With my schoolwork excuse gone, I don’t have a backup, but I can’t tell her the truth. I don’t want them to think I’m weak. I think it over, trying to find the right words in my head.

“Everyone at school talks like our family being shamans is a bad thing.” They say a lot worse than that, but that’s the gist. “I know Grandfather still tells fortunes, but it’s not like I’m gonna be a shaman.” Mother made it clear that path wouldn’t give me and Jun, her children, the best future. “But everyone brings it up a lot. Is it really that bad?”

I hate how small my voice sounds, higher pitched than a girl’s. It’s the best I have. Jun’s the one to look away this time, lips pressed together in thought. The servant’s patterned knock ( _one-two-three, one-two, one_ ) breaks our silence and Jun grants permission to enter.

A plate of small ròu wán is set before us—enough for conversation, but not enough to spoil our dinner. Jun asks for snacks more than I do; I tend not to work up the nerve knowing the request will patch through Mother first. A fresh bottle of milk is set beside me for a drink, and Jun gets one of juice. Set-up complete, the servant retreats into the hall.

The door closes, and Jun waits a few moments before standing up and clicking the lock into place. I stare, not sure of what she’s thinking. She tries to put on a smile for me, but I recognize the worry underneath. By the time my sister sits again, her expression has gone hard.

“I promise there’s nothing wrong with us,” Jun says. I knew she’d say that. It’s why I didn’t want to talk about it. “Our lineage doesn’t mean anything to who we are now.”

Jun picks up a ròu wán and takes a small bite. “But?” I prompt, reaching for one myself. The meat explodes in juices across my mouth, dough sticking to my teeth.

“But…” My sister takes a deep breath. I think I see her tremble a bit. I glance back to the locked door. Is she doing something that could get us I trouble? I almost tell her to stop but I want to hear more. “But we don’t…have a very nice family history, Ren.” I catch concern flickering across her eyes. “We were shamans, but we hurt a lot of people.”

Jun tells me about the jiāng shi, about the wars, about the dungeons, about the poisons, about how the castle we live in was earned through blood, centuries of it. Her voice is low, without any of her usual energy to it. She speaks in facts, dried up like grass in the sun. She doesn’t talk in details on purpose, like that changes the information.

Like it’s why she stopped me from digging through the books in the first place.

I listen, my ròu wán half-eaten and otherwise untouched. Jun doesn’t eat more, either, nor does she touch her juice. I listen and absorb, and I wonder why people need to push their feelings—their _parents’_ feelings—about the past on me. I wonder about why the Taos before us felt the need to earn through violence.

I listen and I ask—

“Is that why Father’s so mean?”

Jun scoots around to the other side of the table and pulls me into her arms while she cries.

* * *

_19\. Wildflowers (1)_

* * *

Jun escorted the patient to their examination room and gave the usual forewarning that the doctor would be with them soon. She topped off the words with a short bow and went back to the reception desk, shoes clacking against the floor and echoing in the empty halls.

While still considered an important member of the staff, Jun had chosen to work in a smaller clinic. That meant the subordinates, no matter their level of education, all had to trade off desk duty. Jun didn’t mind. The clinic was small and peaceful even on a bad day, so getting the patients situated didn’t cause much trouble. Jun still preferred to help with diagnostics and treatment, but even she could appreciate a slow day.

Unlike her workaholic brother. He hadn’t visited once since his graduation party, and that had been four months ago. Her little brother, all alone in a city far from home. Jun knew Ren could handle himself, but she still worried.

Back at reception, Jun sat down at her desk and thumbed through the remaining patients for the day. She could recognize a few names, but a few recent patients still eluded her. Making sure to keep the timetables in order, Jun skimmed through the list of appointment reminders she needed to make.

The door clacked as it opened, letting in a bit of breeze, sharp with falling rain. The newcomer shook off his umbrella outside before setting it by the door. Jun didn’t recognize him. She could catch the bulge of muscles even under his rain jacket, a compliment to his broad shoulders, and water soaked his dark, messy hair.

The man brushed drops of water out of his eyes, and Jun remembered she was working.

“How can I help you?” she called in her best receptionist voice. Some of her coworkers were much peppier, but it got the job done.

“I have an appointment this afternoon?” the man said, with a bit of uncertainty. Jun looked to her schedule again, skimming over unfamiliar files. “I’m a bit early.”

Considering the next appointment wasn’t for another twenty minutes, Jun could agree with that. “Your name?”

“Lee Bailong.” Jun found the matching hànzì and nodded. “Like I said, I’m a bit early, I apologize.”

Jun raised her head with a smile. “It’s no trouble. The doctor’s with a patient now, but he might be able to see you before the next one…” The next thing she was _supposed_ to say was to direct the man to the waiting area. But Bailong had made his way to the desk, tall enough to tower over here even while standing, and something about the sharp angles in his face seemed familiar. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

Bailong laughed, a deep chuckle that pulled sound from all the way in the back of his throat. “I don’t think so. But I’m an actor, so maybe you’ve seen me on a poster before.”

“Ah, _Fists of Fury_!” Jun clicked her fingers. At Bailong’s amused smile, the woman lowered her voice. “I’ve studied a bit of martial arts to say in shape. I’ve watched your films with my family…” Dressed in casual clothes, Bailong didn’t make as much as an impression as he did in his on-screen costumes, but she could recognize him now. “I’m surprised you’d come to a clinic so small. It’s an honor to have you.”

“Well, I’ve come here for a long time. There’s no need to change that now.” Bailong shifted his hands to his pockets, a few stray drops of water dripping from his hair. “Ah, I think I’m going to dry off in the bathroom. Will you let the doctor know I’m here…?”

“Tao Jun,” she supplied, words rushing out.

“Jun,” Bailong agreed, still smiling. “Thank you. I’ll be back out shortly.” He nodded his head, sending rainwater to the floor, and Jun watched him go as he slipped into the side hall with familiarity. When he returned, the two picked up an easy small talk until the previous patient needed to confirm their next appointment date.

It was a coincidence that she worked at Bailong’s follow-up care two weeks later. And the one a month after that.

* * *

_20\. Aster (5)_

* * *

Mrs. Xia finds me as I pick fallen leaves out of the soil of a hibiscus pot. I wave with my dirt dusted fingers and pluck out the last leaf, adding it to the pile in my other palm. Done with my task I stand up straight, cupping my hands together so I don’t spill the load.

“You _can_ take one home with you, Cuì Jú,” she reminds me, just like every other time I stop by her flower shop. “Goodness knows you could take care of it. I’d even give you a discount for all the help.”

I shake my head and rely on the scent of petals to calm me down. Here, it’s different. The plants aren’t mine. They’re the shop’s. I don’t have to worry about them while I’m out at school, if they’re watered enough, if they have enough sunlight.

_If they’re going to be broken when I get home._

I hide my grimace with a fake sneeze, hands too full to cover my mouth. Dead leaves crunch between my fingers. My hibiscus friend sways from the small explosion of air. “Sorry,” I apologize, just like every time I stop by her shop. “Budget’s kind of tight. Maybe some other time?”

Mrs. Xia looks at me, her first wrinkles deepening the crease between her brows. She looks at me like she knows I’m lying, just like every other time, but gives in with a sigh.

“Okay, Cuì Jú,” she says, “but you’ve gotta get a plant sooner or later. They make the best company.”

I know how right she is. I’m just too afraid to lose that all over again.


	6. 21-24

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_21\. Aster (6)_

* * *

I tap my umbrella against the toe of my shoe as I stand outside my parents’ apartment door. I brought the thing because I knew Mom would fuss over me otherwise. Not that I used it. I bounce the umbrella between both feet as I try to work of the nerve to knock on the door.

I imagine Ren scolding me. That does the trick.

I rap my knuckles against the door. It’s weird to think I once lived here. Mom opens the door, her smile working crow’s feet against her eyes. “Hi, sweetie,” she says, pulling me into a hug. I hug back, but not as tight. “Oh, honey, you’re all wet. Let’s get you inside and get some tea.”

She tugs me in the door and pulls off my raincoat before I get a word in edgewise. Again, I wore it because she’d worry otherwise. The weather’s warmed up, and even spring rain isn’t that cold. Still, I let Mom corral me to the dining table. I can still see her as she heads into the kitchen and pours tea into pots, the kettle waiting on the stove.

I listen past the clatter of glassware, but there’s nothing else. Dad isn’t home. Well, she did promise.

Mom comes over with two steaming tea cups, the smell of mint sharp in the air. She watches to make sure I take a drink (she got the sugar just right, what a mom) before talking. “So, what’s this big announcement you have? You were so secretive over the phone.”

Her enthusiasm brightens my mood and the tea warms my chest up. “Phones can be so impersonal,” I say. “You live close enough so I thought I should come see you to say it.” Considering I won’t be this close for much longer played a part, too.

“Well, you’re here now.” Mom leans forward, her glasses fogging from her own teacup. She blows the offending steam away. “I’ve been drowning in suspense, sweetie.”

Nervousness takes root like a weed in my throat. I pluck it out with a cough. “I earned the opportunity to join a research project in Hainan.”

Silence holds for a few moments while my mom processes those words.

“I’m going,” I add, because my wording was unclear. Ren would’ve scolded me in a heartbeat for it. I keep up my smile and try not to think of what else I’ll be leaving behind. “It’s at a nature preserve and a really good opportunity and I want to go. So once I finish this semester, I’ll be going to Hainan and I’ll finish my degree there.”

Mom looks like she doesn’t know whether to burst for joy or for tears. I finish off my teacup as I wait, and she uses getting a refill as an excuse to compose her expression.

“That’s fantastic, Cuì Jú,” she settles on once she comes back to the table. Tears pool in her eyes, but she means every word she says. “Really, fantastic. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I say, somewhat somber. Then I start talking about my classes and my friends and Ren before either of us get too depressed.

* * *

_22\. Lotus (15)_

* * *

“Ren, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Who is that? Mother? Jun? I can’t tell. It’s not Father. Father was yelling.

My head hurts.

“Ren, can you say something? If not it’s okay. Just nod for me if you can.”

I manage to tip my head before I almost fall over.

Whoever it is catches me. My ears are throbbing. I can make out a muffled voice— _Grandfather?_ —but not the words. I’m picked up and hugged into a chest. I can smell Mother’s perfume.

“We’re gonna take you to a Doctor, Ren. Can you stay awake a little longer?”

I blink but the blurs of colors won’t go away. My tongue is heavy, and my voice sounds like its coming from very far away.

“’S Father comin’…?”

“No,” Mother says, soft but firm. “No he’s not.”

* * *

_23\. Lotus (16)_

* * *

“Whoa, it’s so cold!”

“Snow tends to be like that.”

Bai giggles and picks up another handful of snow, fingers going red from the cold. She wanted to look at some of the mountain plants, so I took her hiking. Bai’s bright green hair and pastel clothes stick out against the gray rock. The sun shines down from the clear sky overhead, but it doesn’t bring much warmth.

I tuck my hands into my pockets and watch as Bai tosses her load into the air. Snowflakes stick to her hair. Her laughter comes out in bursts of fog. “You’re so lucky to grow up in a place like this. So much nature!”

I turn to the path ahead. We still have a ways until we reach the top. But I accounted for Bai sticking her nose into every plant, rock, and snow drift, so we started early. There’s plenty of time to get to the top and back down for dinner. I’m checking the time when something splats against my back. Cold drips onto my neck.

_She actually threw a snowball at me._

It’s not surprising. I turn around to find Bai failing to conceal snickers behind her hand.

“I didn’t think,” she splutters, “I could hit you… _snrk…_!”

I seethe for a moment. Bai erupts into full out laughter, her voice echoing from the mountains. I’m glad we came by ourselves. The teasing I’ll get from my sister over taking Bai out alone is better than the torture I’d get from my family realizing she can make me blush. That’d put our ancestors to shame.

Bai’s too distracted by laughing her head up. I scoop up a handful of snow, compact it into a not-too-tight ball, and pitch it with perfect aim. The snow bursts at her shoulder. Bai shrieks before sniggering again and diving into the nearby snowdrift to form another ball. I step back to a more tactical position and start to form my own ammunition.

Our shouts scatter birds into the cold mountain air.

* * *

_24\. Lotus (17)_

* * *

The far-away rumble of thunder wakes me up. I blink, blurry eyes trying to make sense of the shadows in my room. My stuffed tiger stares at me in the dark. A second boom of thunder pierces the air, this one closer to home. Lightning flashes through the curtains, splashing illumination across the floor. Rain batters the windows. Grandfather spent the last few days predicting flood courses for the nearby roads.

I slip out from under the covers, tiger in arm, and cross over to the window.

Some kids at school freak out when it’s storming, but I don’t. I love the sound of rain, even when it’s heavy. There are noises louder, scarier, than thunder. And lightning…

I tug open the curtain to catch a bolt of lightning strike between two mountains. More lightning jumps between clouds in upside down arcs. The clouds flicker like dying streetlights. Holding my tiger between my elbows, I press both hands to the windowsill and lean as close to the glass as I can without smashing my face against it.

I trace lightning bolts for several minutes. Grandfather always talks about how important it is for us to stay in touch with nature, and this is the part of nature I want to stay in touch with.

A flash of lightning brighter than anything I’ve seen before tears through the sky, and the world is transported to daytime. I can see the mountains, the courtyard, the servants’ quarters in perfect clarity. I feel like I could count the number of trees if I wanted to.

In a split second, the light flickers, resetting to darkness, but the impression of the estate sticks to my eyes.

I should go back to bed. The thunder won’t keep me awake. Rain sounds like a lullaby. But I don’t have school tomorrow.

I can stay up a little bit longer.


	7. 25-28

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_25\. Lotus (18)_

* * *

Being back at Guizhou has spoiled me. Across Japan, Britain, and America, I was in cities. The skies were clouded, and I grew used to it. My short stay at home in the mountains reminded me of what star fronts are _supposed_ to look like.

From the balcony at my apartment, I can see nothing other than the fact that the sky is dark, and even that’s brought into question by the reflection of lights from the streets below.

I step closer to the railing and peer down over the edge. The height is nothing compared to the view from the top of the castle. My stomach has grown past lurching. Cars roll past on the roads, people push past each other on the sidewalks, and the faint murmurs of chatter reach me in the air. The smoke is drowned out in the height. I look back up to the sky as if it it’s going to change anything.

It doesn’t.

 _This is just a step,_ I remind myself. _You have a job. Even if you can’t see the stars, if you keep working, you’ll be able to get closer to lightning._

I head back inside, enjoying the press of air conditioning and a cold bottle of milk before heading to bed under a starless sky.

* * *

_26\. Lotus (19)_

* * *

I trudge behind Grandfather. I’m well exercised, but keeping pace with him is hard. Even Jun is starting to run out of breath. Grandfather Zhang hikes up the mountain trail like he’s heading down the street for groceries—with much more grace than expected of his age. Despite there being a path, it’s maintained by frequent treks, not any nature association, a wobbly line of dirt amongst what little vegetation that can grow at this height.

I don’t show that I’m tired. I don’t complain about the walk. I keep pushing forward, because we’ve been hiking ever since we were kids, and I _can handle this._

Grandfather veering off the path, however, is different than before. I exchange a look with Jun before raising my voice. “Where are you going?”

“We,” Grandfather stresses, “are heading to our destination. Stay close. You don’t want to get lost in the trees.”

Jun and I both pick up our pace so we don’t get left behind in the foliage.

It’s just a short walk left from where we were, though, and with good reason. I hold a tree branch out of the way for Jun, and she halts when she passes. I’m short enough ( _still_ ) that I don’t have to duck underneath it, and I lean around Jun’s side to make sure Grandfather’s in sight.

He very much is. As is the outcropping of rock overlooking the valleys and mountains around us. Grandfather stands within less than a meter of the edge, hands clasped behind his back. His posture holds straight. I tap Jun’s side, and she breaks out of her reverie long enough for me to stand beside her.

“Come closer,” Grandfather calls, voice somehow not lost in the vast amount of space before us. I take the first step, hesitating from awe over fear. Jun, having grown up in the same skyscraping castle as I have, follows. I find the lack of a railing enough to deter me from the edge, but Grandfather doesn’t budge until we’re within a meter of him. He turns to face us, a smile across his aged face. “As you know, we Taos have relied on nature to guide our divinations.

“While you may not take the same path as I have, you two have very much done well to preserve your sense of chi and harmony with the world. We do well within our walls to maintain a connection with nature, but it’s different when you are in the wilds yourselves. Take this opportunity to connect with the world and further discover yourselves. I’ll keep an eye on the surroundings.”

Without further prompting, Grandfather sits down in position, closes his eyes, and begins meditating. Jun nods and sits down as well. I look again over the view in front of us, so far from any civilization, even out of view of the castle that is our home.

Taking a seat, I breathe in pure mountain air and connect to the flow of chi around me.

* * *

_27\. Lotus (20)_

* * *

“Hey, Ghost Freak.”

I flip a page in my book and try not to show I’m worried. It’s been a few weeks since Jun told me about our background. I forgot to thank her, but she did reassure me, just a little. Instead of cowering from the words, I need to stand strong against it. Mother will be here soon to pick me up. When it comes down to it, nothing my classmates do can be as bad as Father.

_What if they don’t go away what if they just get worse?_

_Don’t be such a baby._

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” my classmate growls. I pretend to keep reading, keeping stock of my peer from the corner of my eye. I don’t remember his name, or those of the two flunkies behind him. Shadows from the tree above us dance across their shoulders. They’re all bigger than me, but, annoying as it is, most kids are. “Don’t ignore me!”

In the spirit of not putting up with this anymore, I do the exact opposite and keep up my strategy.

The result is my book getting ripped out of my hands and passed to one of the other boys in the back. It’s from the school library, so they can’t go damaging it. Even they’re not that stupid. I stand up, and the leader of the pack sneers. “‘Bout time, Ghost Freak. Who reads after school anyway?”

I can think of a number of insulting responses to that, but Mother would scold me if she overheard. Gritting my teeth, I settle for the high road, or close enough. “Give it back,” I demand, replicating Grandfather’s stern tone. I’m a Tao, no matter our history, and I don’t need to put up with this.

My classmate blinks in surprise. I can’t blame him; it’s the first time I’ve put up resistance. His scowl comes back faster than lightning, though. “Oh yeah, Short Stack? You gonna make me?”

His friends snicker, as if his insult is anything original. Mother still isn’t here, and I’d like to get it over with before she arrives. I’ve kept the bullying a secret until now. No sense in bringing it up at the end. I consider my options, try to think of the quickest ending. They may be bigger than me, but it’s not like I don’t exercise, and Jun’s been showing me her martial arts lessons in the courtyard.

“I can if I have to,” I say with all the confidence I can muster. “Last chance.”

“Oooh, what? You’re gonna get a ghost to take it back for you?”

I throw the first punch before he even knows what hit him.

* * *

_28\. Lotus (21)_

* * *

“Yong, this is Tao Ren, your new assistant. Tao, I have no need to introduce Lu Yong, I’m sure.”

Kuang gestures to each of us in kind and takes a step back from the center of the office. A combination of research materials, family photos, and knickknacks line the shelves around us. I bow to my new superior, keeping my posture erect. Lu Yong, the leading researcher on lightning energy conversion in our company, bows in kind. I’m humbled to see the closest figure to an idol I’ve held in decades show such modesty.

“It’s an honor to be working with you,” I say, and the words are far more genuine than formality. I stand up straight again, forming eye contact. Lu Yong is shorter than me by at least five centimeters and keeps his azure vest and plain dress shirt well-kept for someone that seems uncomfortable in them. That has no effect on the brains inside, though. “I hope to be of assistance.”

“You are the formal type, huh?” Lu Kong grins a bit, and Kuang nods, his own wide smile across his face. I don’t squirm from their exchange of glances, but it feels tempting. “Well, I’ve seen your work and I’ve heard great things about you from Kuang over here. I’m certain you’ll be great help.” Lu Kong offers his hand for a shake. “Let’s make some good work together, okay, Tao?”

I clasp his hand in a firm handshake. Lu Yong’s callouses scratch across my own. “Yes, sir.”

Lu Kong sends another amused smile to Kuang. “He always like this?” Our boss nods again. Am I just that unsociable to other people? Maybe I should relent to Heng’s invitations every now and then. If Bai were present, she’d be giggling up a storm. A small plant I don’t know the name to sits in the windowsill, almost laughing for her. Or that’s Lu Kong’s chuckle. I refocus on his words. “Well, I think we could use a bit of seriousness up here to keep us all in line. Though, you can loosen up a bit, I won’t be offended.” I nod, unsure of whether or not to take advantage of the permission for informality. “But, I’m sure you don’t want to run your jaw on introductions all day.” My new superior claps my shoulder and heads for the door. “This way. I’ll show you around the labs and stuff.”

When I nod this time, it’s with much more conviction. I say my farewells and thanks to Kuang again before following Lu Yong out the door.


	8. 29-32

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

29\. _Wildflowers (2)_

* * *

“We’re delaying the trip, then?”

Jeanne pulled a strand of silver hair back over her shoulder. Marco, CEO of the company and her boss, adjusted his glasses with an apologetic smile. Jeanne could smell his tea from across the room. “I know it’s an inconvenience, Jeanne,” he said. “But we need you here to finish up the rest of the contracts. You’ll be able to take your trip to China in a month or so, but it’s best to have you here.”

Jeanne smiled in return, keeping her voice calm. “I understand,” she said. “I trust your judgement, Marco.”

The CEO shuffled some papers on his desk, glancing at them as he spoke. “I’m glad to hear that, Jeanne. The travel department is already rearranging your flight and stay, so no need to worry about that. I’ll let you know of the particulars when they’re finalized.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jeanne paused, thinking over her schedule. “Would you like to have lunch together today? It’s been some time since we’ve had a meal together.”

Marco tapped his pen twice to the paper before letting it clatter to his desk. “I’d like that very much.”

* * *

_30\. Lotus (22)_

* * *

“Afternoon, Ms. Xia!” Bai calls. It may just be me, but she seems to be missing a bit of her usual vigor. I wait beside Bai in the doorway. There’s enough fresh pollen in the air to choke someone. Every corner of my vision is caught up in the swirl of colors dotted over the background of green leaves. The sole corners of the wall visible are those inching towards the ceiling. If it weren’t for the pots and fertilizer for sale near the front counter, I’d guess we were in another greenhouse.

By the time I’ve taken all this in Bai’s still standing beside me. It’s such a contrast from her normal energetic approach to plants I don’t even have to call her out on it. Bai’s eyes stare unfocused into space, leaving enough of an opening for me to push her a step forward.

Bai stumbles a bit, then turns back to me, her face mirroring a dejected rat’s. “I really can’t buy you one without help,” I remind her. “Find one you like. Hell, find a bunch of them. I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry about price.” Even if that’s not what she’s worried about.

I take enough steps forward to let the door close in a fresh jingle of bells. Bai watches me another second before taking a deep breath. “Right,” she says through her exhale. She cups her hands around her mouth and forages deeper into the shop. “Mrs. Xia!”

“Over here, Cuì Jú,” an older voice calls from the right side of the shop. I follow Bai’s experienced path through the tables, weaving back to a collection of potted trees along a wall. Long, broad leaves sway under the care of an older woman. She looks old enough to be from the same generation as Grandfather Zhang. I bow my head in respect. “Ah, and this young man is…?”

“Ren,” Bai introduces before I can even open my mouth. “You’re lucky, Mrs. Xia. He convinced me to buy a plant, so you’re gonna get business from me!” As promised, Bai does frequent this place. She just hasn’t bought anything. Listening to her during Christmas, I don’t blame her, but there’s a limit to how much you can wallow in the past.

Mrs. Xia’s expression holds at pleasant before shifting to an outright smile. “It’s about time. You owe me at least three years’ worth of business, girl. Get to buyin’.” There’s a teasing love to her tone. Someone else that Bai has looking out for her.

“Hm.” Bai plants her index finger on her chin. “I’ll give you the business, but at least let Ren share my discount. That’s a lot of flowers, otherwise.” I almost protest that money isn’t an issue, even less so in this circumstance. I save most of my earnings anyways. But Bai’s already skipped off, singing some nonsense tune to herself as she greets plants in her customary touches and whispers.

Mrs. Xia watches as the girl goes on, nodding twice with a grunt of satisfaction. Then she turns to me. It’s a significant lower to match my eye level to hers. “I don’t know how you got it into that girl’s head to stop being so silly and get herself a plant already, but thank you,” she says.

“She needs it,” I find myself saying. She does need it. A way to move on from the pain her father gave her. A way to indulge in the things she loves. “I’m sure once she gets one, she’ll want twenty. Sorry if it’s any hassle.”

The old woman laughs, closer to a witch’s cackle than any benevolent chuckle. “Oh, no hassle at all. I’d carry one-hundred pots to that girl’s doorstep by hand if it’d help her.” It’s not too far from Bai’s apartment to here, but that would be quite the pilgrimage nonetheless. “I can sell her the plants, so you take care of the rest.”

Words bunch in my mouth like cotton. I’m saved from speaking by Bai calling “Ren!” Her cheerful voice echoes up to the ceiling. “Over here!” I catch sight of her waving hand amongst the foliage, the rest of her plant-patterned attire blending in too much with the surroundings. A few accidental run-ins with dead ends amongst the display, I make it to Bai’s side. “I found it. This one. They’re coming home.”

She points to a small pot, not even the size of my palm. I can’t even tell what flower it’s going to be, the identification tag smeared in the soil. All I can see is a tiny sprig of life, a single sprout with a single leaf, green against the dark brown and white speckled dirt.

“It’s me,” Bai whispers as I stand by her side. For a moment, her fingers brush into mine—then the fluttering sensation’s gone as she cradles the small pot with a smile.

And she is a plant, sprouting from the earth and ready to store up light in preparation to bloom.

* * *

_31\. Aster (7)_

* * *

I go for a walk across the Tao’s courtyard. Biting winter wind funnels down from the mountains. The sky, drizzled in clouds, is a hazy gray, the sun not high enough to be visible yet. Ren didn’t believe me at first when I told him I wake up around five on most mornings. Sure, part of that’s to get ready for classes, but I still like getting up to watch the sun rise. With the view from Tao castle, it’s a sight to behold out here.

But past that, I like getting up to stretch my legs in the morning, even if it involves getting chilled to the core over Christmas weekend. The mountains are just as different from the city as you’d think, and I love every second of it.

Mountain grass, tough and persisting to a dark green that borders on hard brown, refuses to yield under my boots. I’ve been out here for ten minutes and the opposite wall of the courtyard looks just as far away as when I started. I swear, it’s bigger than my university campus. Since most of the Tao family seems occupied with their own morning routines, I’ll take the time-sink.

Their home looms over me. Since I’m on the east end of the estate, I’m treated to the shorter shadows of the surrounding walls, which are less intimidating. No matter how many times I look at Tao Castle, it doesn’t look like anything real, so I focus on the path stretching out before me. Stone decorations are placed at regular intervals, and the beds of the gardens lie in their dormant state, well maintained until spring arrives.

I want to see them in bloom. Ran’s extensive endangered species garden upstairs is amazing and all, but all gardens have their own charm. Maybe I’ll convince Ren to bring me back later on, or just ask his mother to send pictures.

_Nah, seeing them in person is better, even if Ren would—_

_Oh, I see._

I come to a stop and squat at the side of a pond, though that’s a modest term considering the sheer size of the thing. A pump maintains an artificial current that spills over rock formations in a miniature waterfall. Frost has nipped at the air but not settled into ice. The water is clean, with just the right amount of algae to show a healthy ecosystem. This leaves a clear view to them.

The lotus pots rest in huge circular discs, each at least a meter in size. The flower spreads must be huge when in bloom. Squinting, I catch sight of the dormant tubers, white lines snaking in and out of each other against the dark soil, kept away from winter’s chill. I tug off my glove and dip a finger into the water, not even minding my finger’s protest as I pull it out. The temperature’s just right. While the garden inside shows it, Tao family gardeners know their stuff.

“Maybe I should ask them for tips…” I mumble, trying to rub feeling back into my finger. When it stops feeling so numb, I tuck it back into my pocket. I stand and roll my neck. There’s still a lot of ground to cover, and I bet I can do it before breakfast. Ready, I set back off on my courtyard expedition.

“Definitely gotta come back and check this place out when they’re blooming, though…”

* * *

_32\. Lotus (23)_

* * *

Bai skips into my apartment after taking off her shoes, each bounce causing rattles from beaded bracelets, all in bright pastel colors. I shut up the door behind and follow her course into the living room. My guest comes do a dead halt, and when I pass her, Bai’s jaw is hanging open like a Venus flytrap, minus the intensity.

“Whoa…” she marvels, eyes just as wide. I go to retrieve the kettle from the kitchen, her voice still audible over the distance. “It’s huge in here! What do you even do with all this space?”

“It’s good to have space of your own,” I retort, heading to the couch and coffee table. Bai picks up on my trail and follows as the smell of milk tea wafts through the air. I’ve also brought out sugar, to prepare for her sweet tooth. I can make allowances, even when I’m bringing her to my playing field. Bai’s in position by the time I put the tray down. “What’s that face for?”

Her disbelief has grown in the short span of time since I stepped away. “You know, before I would’ve questioned it, but I guess it makes sense.” I raise an eyebrow. Bai waits for me to serve her a cup before reaching for the sugar spoon. “Well, you grew up in a _literal_ castle. Of course this seems small to you.”

“I know my limits,” I retort, not adding any embellishments to my own cup. The brew’s fine as comes.

“Oh, yeah?” The challenge seems to have lifted her back to perkiness. Bai grins. “Have you even ever lived in a place as small as mine?”

“I have. When I stayed overseas, I had nothing the size of this. Conversion rates aren’t our friend, you know.”

“Because everyone has that problem.” Bai snickers at her own sarcasm. “Let’s face it, Ren, you’re a rich kid. Nothin’ wrong with that. I think it’s a great quality to have.”

I provide an eye roll. “Because I can pay for tea.”

Bai hums in consideration, watching my ceiling even though it’s as plain as any other. “And flowers,” she decides. “Flowers definitely help, too.” She grins. “So since you can buy so many, you should do so. Mrs. Xia will appreciate it, I’m sure.” She’s even picked out her florist for me.

“Don’t you already have a greenhouse for an apartment?” I take another sip of my tea, enjoying the creamy counterbalance to the black tea in the brew. Why Bai needs sugar when it’s sweet enough on its own is beyond me.

“Oh, I know.” Bai’s cup reaches the table with a thud, though she’s drank enough it doesn’t spill over. “We buy some for your apartment, then. Come on, you don’t have many decorations. It’ll do you a lot of good! A home with plants is a happy one.”

I return my own teacup to the table and cast my eyes over the room. Though I have the space, I kept the décor minimal because it’s easier to maintain. Rich kid or no, having all that to clean up on one’s own is a hassle, and I like keeping things tidy. My shelves carry books and a few pieces of China Mother passed onto me. The patterns match across my furniture in subtle color combinations. Simple is a style, but I guess adding a few plants wouldn’t hurt.

But if I say that now, Bai will drag me out to buy some without any consideration for the time or tea. She’ll make a big production of it, too. And while I’ve grown used to the bustle, she said it was my turn to pick the evening’s schedule, and my plans involve staying indoors.

So I let a small smile on my lips, just to appease her, and raise my cup for a fresh drink. “I’ll think about it.”


	9. 33-36

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_33\. Lotus (24)_

* * *

I’m stuffed into a small booth in some restaurant I’ve never heard of, the place decked out in oranges and yellows. It’s a less than formal place, the kitchen staff chattering from behind their partition, voices somehow louder than the clustered in patrons. The inhale of spice from the door has busted my sense of smell, but somehow the aroma from Heng’s smoke crinkles my nose.

My coworker raises his eyebrow at me, flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette. “You really are bad with cigarettes, huh?” he asks, sounding almost amused. I try to deny it—he invited me out to lunch even though I work in a separate part of the building now—but Heng waves his hand, forming waves with his smoke trail. “Don’t deny it. I saw you when we went out for dinner. Where’d you grow up that you didn’t have to put up with this crap? This is China, you know.”

“The mountains,” I answer, trying very hard not to tuck my hand over my face. Heng goes to extinguish his cigarette, but this time I shake him off. “Just…give me a minute. I’ll be okay. I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, it won’t stop everyone else in this place.” Smokers are everywhere, sucking in nicotine during their allotted breaks. There’s a reason I tend to bring lunch from home.

“True.” Heng nods and takes a fresh drag, but blows his smoke away from me. It’s as good as I can expect. “I think you’re the only guy in the office who doesn’t smoke at some point. Not to be rude, but it’s kinda funny.”

I huff air out my nose. “It’s funny that I like keeping my lungs in one piece?”

“You got me there,” Heng says, then blows a ring of smoke to show off for our waiter.

* * *

_34\. Lotus (25)_

* * *

I wake up in the morning, fighting off the chill with my blankets. The sky outside the window is filled with gray clouds, though they have yet to drop any snow. I haven’t seen a single snowflake while in Tokyo, though winter still has a few months in it. Not that I mind; I’m sure I’ll get my fill of the seasons once I finish hopping continents.

Knowing that holding it off won’t make handling the cold any easier, I push off my blanket, feet pressing into the slick floor. Funbari Onsen was built long enough ago that central heating wasn’t part of the plan, and my space heater can only do so much. I dress in a few layers to keep my core heated, clip my hair into place, and retreat to the dining area where I know the kotatsu is waiting.

Ryu’s cooking in the kitchen. He tends to make enough for all of us, so I don’t interrupt. Anna and Tamao are seated at the table already, coffee cups in front of them. We four are the early risers of the place, so it’s the usual crowd until I notice Asakura nodding off beside Anna, looking as groggy as ever.

“G’ mornin’, Ren,” he greets through a yawn. Tamao chirps her own greeting, while Anna just meets my eyes in acknowledgement.

“I’m impressed you’re even awake,” I say, tucking myself under the blanket. The miniature heatwave rolls into my legs and starts to thaw out my toes. “Isn’t this closer to your bedtime than your concept of morning?”

“We’re going on a date today,” Anna announces as an answer. Tamao goes red at the sound of the word. “It’ll be some time alone before the temple visit tonight.” Right, it is the turn of the calendar year. I’m so used to the Lunar New Year I hadn’t even considered the date. I should expect a call from my family at least, given that my birthday’s tomorrow.

Tamao fidgets with her coffee cup. Cream has dyed the innards almost as light a shade as her pale pink hair. “Y-you’re welcome to come, too, Ren-san,” she offers.

“Oh, yeaaah,” Asakura drawls, not rising from his hunch over the table. A sleepy smile worms its way onto his face. “You should definitely come, Ren. I mean, you’re not gonna be in Japan next year. You should have the temple experience now!”

They’re not wrong. “Alright. Let me know when we depart.” Asakura defers the duty to his fiancé, who tells me to be ready by-eleven thirty. I glance around the table again, noting our missing member. “Horohoro still asleep?” Not that I _want_ his loudmouth so early in the morning, but better to be prepared for the battle than otherwise.

Tamao shakes her head. “He left for Hokkaido last night,” she informs. “They’re holding festivals right now, so he wanted to be with his family.” Right, he did mention something like that. For such an idiot, at least he honors his peoples’ traditions. It’s just a shame one of the newest generation to preserve the Ainu culture is him. “He won’t be back until classes start up again.”

“Good riddance,” I say, with little conviction.

Asakura snickers into the table spread. Anna yanks him to sit upright. “You are _not_ going to sleep all day,” she scolds. “Wake up or I’ll have double the bags for you to carry on the way home.”

“I’m waking up, I promise!” Asakura says, holding his hands up in surrender. “You know, coffee _does_ sound great, now that I’m thinking of it. You want some Ren? I’ll grab you a cup, too.” He scrambles to the kitchen, almost to show that he’s awake enough to move that fast.

It’s my turn to snicker. Not that I do. But I do smirk at Asakura when he returns with the coffee I didn’t even ask for.

* * *

_35\. Wildflowers (3)_

* * *

Min Jia checked on Shui’s hand in his as they shuffled through the crowd. The streets held tight with innumerable festival goers, and Min Jia couldn’t risk getting separated from his younger cousin. Yes, Shui was a smart kid, and he knew where to meet up if he got lost, but Min Jia didn’t like taking any chances.

“That girl was pretty,” Shui said, his small voice carrying up to Min Jia’s ears. The elder stopped in the middle of the crowd, and people parted around them, chattering all the same. Conversations on the New Year and calls for customers filled the air instead of car traffic. At least five different aromas of food hit Min Jia’s nose, tempting even though he had eaten breakfast before picking Shui up.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed, because he still thought so. They didn’t work well on a long term wavelength, but she was pretty. Her dressing up enhanced the effect. And that Ren guy—for all she talked about him, he didn’t even get it? Then again, Cuì Jú didn’t seem to realize she liked him, either. “What a space case…”

“Huh?” Shui tilted his head up to his cousin. Min Jia shook his head. He agreed with Cuì Jú that they didn’t have the same long term goals. Just friends worked fine for them. If she was happy floating around the friend zone with a guy dense in a different way than she was, then all the power to her. “Can we go play games, then? Mom gave me some pocket money.” Shui tugged Min Jia’s pant leg and pointed down the street. Even though he couldn’t see that far, Shui remembered the festival layout from the year before.

Min Jia smiled and hoisted Shui up without warning. The kid was still small enough to be lifted without too much strength required. Swinging his cousin around, Min Jia tucked Shui into a seat on his shoulders. “You bet!” Min Jia said, keeping hold of Shui’s legs until the boy regained his balance to hold on himself. “Hey, I’ll give you some pocket money, too. New Year’s gift and all that. Whatcha wanna try to win?”

As Shui tried to choose between every possible festival prize (and others not even in existence), Min Jia forged their path through the crowd, one step at a time, in the opposite direction from where he knew Cuì Jú stood.

* * *

_36\. Aster (8)_

* * *

“Oh, yeah. Cuì Jú, how’s things going with that guy you were talking about?”

I pause with my cheese stick halfway to my mouth, breadcrumbs sticking to my fingers. Yating’s penchant for Western food won the dinnertime draw for this week. Yating is also the one peering at me through the frames of her glasses, instigating the question, but Lim leans closer in curiosity, too.

I shrug and take a bite anyway, marinara sauce blending well with the piping hot appetizer. “Ren’s doing good,” I answer. “He let me pick out a few plants for his apartment. You know how white’s supposedly in style or something? That man needed a splash of color.”

“Ugh, I could never go all white,” Lim says, pinching the tip of her straw into an oval. “Even the furniture?” I think about it, then nod. Some of it was grey accent stuff, but the couch I sat on was white. “You see, that’s something only a guy could have. I mean, what would you do if you had a bad accident with your period or something?”

Yating grimaces, but resets her expression as she pushes her glasses up. The new lenses make her eyes look much larger than they are, but the look suits her. “I’d rather not think about that nightmare,” she says, snatching up another cheese stick for herself. I munch down the second half of mine with another heaping helping of marinara. Double dipping is a myth among friends. “But you guys went out and bought plants together again? How was it?”

“Tons of fun!” I chirp, because it was. Ren ended up being pretty attentive about the whole thing. He even asked me questions about meanings. “Mrs. Xia appreciated the business, plus she knows tons about fung shei. Ren’s really into chi stuff and they talked for a while. Isn’t that, like, super cool?” Maybe next time I get to pick the conversation, I’ll see if he can teach me a little bit, too.

“Hmmm.” Yating frowns and licks the crumbs off her fingers, manicured nails flashing in the process. “Well, I’m glad you had a fun time.”

“Yeah, maybe this Ren guy can keep up with you about flowers.” Lim toys with her hoop earring, the different parts jingling together. Try as they might, my friends can’t always keep up with my plant talk, which is fine. At least they listen in the first place. Lim’s smile shifts a bit, and I notice the troublemaking look in her eyes. “Maybe we should all hang out sometime, see what he’s like. Ow!”

Lim hisses and leans down to rub her leg. Yating says, “Sorry, kicked the wrong direction,” without much conviction. I look between my two friends, but they don’t elaborate. “But I dunno if Ren would wanna hang out with a bunch of college kids. We’re probably brats to him.”

 _I just won’t tell them that’s accurate…_ Ren may have loosened up a lot in the past few months, but I don’t think that grumpiness will go away anytime soon. “I can ask,” I hedge, and Lim shoots Yating a smirk she thinks I don’t see, “but he’s been busy with his promotion. I barely get time to hang out with him as it is.”

“Too bad,” Lim mumbles, reaching for the appetizer plate. “What the heck? You guys ate all these already? I call foul!”

“Not my fault you don’t eat fast enough,” Yating snarks. I give Lim an apologetic smile, and she sips cola through her deformed straw. “But, seriously, Cuì Jú. You don’t have to drag Ren along. But if you ever wanna mingle your friend groups, we’re not opposed.”

I nod, tracing childish flower patterns onto the table with my fingertip. “I make no promises.” Something like that seems big, too big to happen in the time we have now. I’ll stick with my little moments where I can get them. “So, do we wanna stuff ourselves silly on another round of appetizers, or are we saving room for desert?”


	10. 37-40

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_37\. Aster (9)_

* * *

I open my eyes to the charming of my alarm. I roll around with a groan, even though I’ve been fading out of sleep for the past ten minutes or so. Not even sunlight filters in under the curtains. I get up to pull them open, twilight hazing the sky above me. I grab my phone and turn on a playlist, soft music starting up the day.

“Let’s get to it, then.”

I have class today, but there’s still a few hours. Pajama clad, I head into my living room, making a beeline for the plant Ren and I picked up last week. There’s just enough light that I don’t trip over my couch on the way, but I could cross this path half asleep. I test the soil, find it moist enough to not need watering, and rotate the pot a bit so it gets sunlight from all angles today. Plants will move towards light anyway, but there’s nothing wrong with helping them. My plant’s single leaf is as ready for the sun to rise as I am. Outside the glass door to the patio, a couple of lights glow in the windows of the early risers across from me.

Satisfied with my plant care, I cross into the kitchen, this time flicking the light switch up in the process. I set up the water heater and pull out my stash of congee for the week from the fridge, settling a bowl into the microwave. While breakfast warms, I wander back to my room to get dressed. Vibrant string instruments echo out of my phone.

The timer for the microwave goes off long before I’m done getting dressed, but I finish tucking my blouse into my skirt and clipping up my hair, daises on the pins. I can see the faint outline of brown forming at the roots of my green hair, and frown at the mirror.

_Do I really want to dye it again?_

I shake my head and return to the kitchen, grabbing my backpack en route. I toss it onto the island counter and retrieve my meal, the bowl hot against my fingers. The water still needs a few minutes, so I leave it. Hopping onto a stool over the counter, I settle in for breakfast.

Sweetness explodes over my tongue and comes close to burning my mouth. Delicious. None of that salty stuff in the morning for me. Blowing on my next mouthful, I dig through my bag for the schedule I drew up yesterday.

Class in the morning until ten. Lunch with Lim and Yating afterwards. There’s a test coming up this week, and I need to study in my free time, plus try and get ahead on the ridiculous amount of reading in one of my biology courses. The next checkpoint for my research project is coming up, too. The heavy course load has thrown off my routine from the past three years, but it’s possible to manage. I note an empty block of time and decide today’s a good a day as any to hang out in the campus greenhouse. I haven’t settled down there in a while.

I haven’t seen Ren in person for a while, either.

I grimace midway through my next bite of congee, even though the taste is fine. I can’t help it that I’m busy. He’s busy, too. I stir circles with my spoon, leaving trails in the rice porridge. I’d like to drop everything, go hang out with him for a bit, but I need this research project to go well if I’m going to recover my GPA from my lackadaisical approach the last few years. I’ll have to schedule in time to see Ren if we can manage it, but not now.

I glance over at my phone, face down on the counter so as not to be a distraction.

If he’s awake at this hour, he’ll be out for a run. If he’s asleep, I don’t plan to disturb him. But I can send him a text, just to wish him a good day. A little moment like that won’t hurt my schedule for the day, or his.

I smile as I tap out the characters. After hitting send, I set the phone back aside and dig my test notes from my bag. Even if most of the information is in my head, it doesn’t hurt to reinforce it. This is the path I chose for myself, and I don’t plan to switch gears down just yet.

When I return home, my little plant’s reaches for the afternoon sun, the sprout of a second leaf forming to join the first.

* * *

_38\. Aster (10)_

* * *

I fall into my seat on the bench, my bag thunking into place beside me. Across the table, Lon Ivy, part of my research group, flicks her eyes up in acknowledgement before skimming through the rest of her notes. The Hainan weather is as hot and sticky as always from the wet season, and I tug open the collar of my tank top to let some air flow. Humidity clogs my pores and brings the smell of distant rain. Ivy finishes her page, wipes sweat from her brow, and sighs.

We share a glance but have learned well enough not to complain about the heat by now. It doesn’t do any good. I pull bottles of water from my bag and toss one to her.

“Thanks,” Ivy says, twisting the cap off. The cheap plastic crackles from the change in pressure. “You were running a bit later than usual. Something come up?”

There’s a slight edge of irritation in her voice—she’s not a fan of waiting for others—but it’s nothing awful. Most of it’s crankiness from the heat. We can both agree that sitting out in the nature reserve is worth it, though, a full course for the eyes of plants surrounding us.

“Sorry,” I apologize, retrieving my own notes. “I got a call from a friend and almost lost track of time.”

“Friend, huh?” Ivy rolls the word in her mouth like a piece of candy she’s not quite sure how it got there. “You mean that grumpy guy you talk about? Tao?”

I nod and place my own research notes on the table. Next comes the dive for a pencil. “Yeah, I don’t get to talk to him much since it’s so busy. He’s doing well, though, so I gotta keep working hard!”

Ivy picks up a spiky taraw palm leaf, rolling the stem between her fingers. Given the small size, she must’ve picked it for a sample. “Well, I’m glad you have someone from home to talk to,” she says. Not for the first time, I’m hit with the impression she doesn’t have many people close to her, but I don’t pry. It’s been progress enough that we can talk about anything besides research. “If you’re gonna work hard, though, let’s get to it. No sense in sweating our asses off out here…”

“You got it.” I repress a giggle. It’s funny how sometimes she’s as stubborn as Ren. Neither would appreciate the comparison. Maybe it’s the similarities that help me navigate her. “I started comparing the overall biome data for the smaller plants, and I noticed some changes…”

Ivy leans over the table, following my finger as I mark out changes in data. Once I’m done, she does the same with her observations, focusing on trees—her specialty to compare with my flowers. Even though she’s a proper researcher and not a student like me, she still listens to my opinions as we try to build optimal layout and growth conditions. I’m lucky to have someone like her as my internship mentor.

“Not bad,” Ivy concludes once we’re done talking things through. “You have a good grip on these things, even if you tend to feel it out by instinct.”

I flush a little, and not just from the heat—I’ve been trying to be more professional but, “Sorry, I’ve always raised plants that way, so it’s hard not to follow the urge when I feel like something will work.”

Ivy smiles, just a bit, only a little. “It’s alright. I do most of my layouts by instinct, too.” Considering she’s made the beginnings of a career in this, I feel a lot better about my chances. She draws circles across her own sheet, highlighting some arrangements. “These felt right to me, but, in this field, we have to work with proof. So I ran all the other combinations to complete the data. Make sure you’re doing the same, too, okay?”

“Right!” It’s hard work, but she’s right: if I want to be a researcher, I need to be able to show my proof. “Though I’m still getting stuck on some of these statistics formulas and uses,” I admit, shuffling out my data pages. “I know I asked before, but do you think you could show me again…?”

I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve asked. Some of the information has stuck, but I’m always using reference sheets when compiling my reports, and half the time I get lost. Ivy skims over my data pages again, then holds out her hand.

“Let me see your work pages again,” she requests. I’ve taken to hoarding my numerous scribble pages for this purpose and pull their folder from my bag. Ivy takes a moment to appreciate the chrysanthemum pattern before opening it. After a few minutes of flipping through the pages, but she pulls a few out and sets them between us. I recognize them from the early deviation tracking. “Alright, let’s start here…”

It’s going to be a long afternoon in the sun.

* * *

_39\. Lotus (26)_

* * *

“You’re going back to Italy next month?” I ask over dinner. Across the table, Jeanne sips from her wine glass with an apologetic smile. I stop spinning my fork in my carbonara, forgetting about eating for the moment. The guests at the table behind me order their food loud enough to be heard, the words not registering in my ears. I take a steady breath. “I knew the period was almost up, but…”

Jeanne notices as I trail off, her red eyes glinting in the low light. She cuts another piece from her grilled salmon as she speaks, “Yes, I thought so, too, but I’ve been here for three months and they need me at home.” She says _home_ with such a loving familiarity. “I’m sure your own department wouldn’t want you to stray away for longer than necessary, would they?”

I consider it with pursed lips. Lu would accept it, but he wouldn’t like it. Even if I’m doing grunt work, he says my organization and perception have helped the department move smoother. He may sound frivolous most times, but he means it. Kuang would try to hold me as a communications agent if I did try to stay from home. And Jeanne, who worked to join her family’s company since she was a girl, is in a much more needed position than I.

Jeanne smiles again after she finishes chewing. I try to resume eating, but it feels like an out to avoid speaking. “Considering the strides you’ve made between our companies, I’m sure they’d want you to keep moving on somewhere else,” I say, making sure it sounds like a genuine compliment. Jeanne is impressive as a liaison, and I’ve watched her secure a number of joint work contracts while here. “Too bad you’re such a hard worker.”

“Oh, stop,” Jeanne admonishes, but looks pleased nonetheless. I smile before it falters. Jeanne sets down her cutlery and peers at me. “You know this isn’t anything personal, right, Ren? I would love to stay, but my career is important to me.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself.” I secure a roll of pasta around my fork but don’t yet go for the bite. “If I were in your position, I’d choose my career, too. You don’t have to throw it away, not while you’re still young.” I grasp my own wine glass in my free hand and reach it towards Jeanne in a toast. “To a fine future for us both.”

Jeanne blinks. She doesn’t say anything about me going to Italy instead. I hadn’t considered the thought. Besides my career, this is my home. She raises her glass again and clinks it to mine. “To a fine future for us both,” she repeats.

We drink and resume dinner, our small talk joining the conversations that surround us.

* * *

_40\. Lotus (27)_

* * *

Thunder rumbles outside and rain splatters against my apartment windows. I check my watch again, as if it’ll make Bai any less late. I test the tea pot on the table to make sure it hasn’t over-brewed. I even conceded and picked up some hibiscus tea from her old café hangout.

After all, it’s been a year since we’ve seen each other.

I tap my finger in impatience and consider calling her. But if I do, she won’t let me live it down. The weather tends to affect public transportation; there’s nothing to worry about.

Bai’s erratic knocking echoes against my front door.

I exhale as I push up from the couch. When I open up, Bai’s swaying back and forth with a grin. She’s drenched, not even bothering to carry an umbrella, though she is holding a gift bag. I should’ve seen this coming.

“I’ll get you a towel,” I greet and gesture for her to come inside.

Bai flashes me a grin. “Much appreciated!”

I dig up a towel from the bathroom and toss it over to Bai, waiting in the doorway. She drags water out of her hair, drops spilling onto the entryway carpet. Now at its natural brown color, she looks less like an eccentric kid, though her outfit still flashes pastels and mismatched styles. The color of the petals doesn’t change the shape of the flower.

When done, Bai drapes the towel around her neck and retrieves her bag from the ground. “Oh, is that tea I smell? You’re the best.” She beams at me and makes headway to the living room, laying the towel out before drenching my couch. Bai leans over to peer into the clear teapot and the bloom inside. “Oooh, this is a new pot, right? Very nice.”

I breathe out a chuckle and fall back into my own seat. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And it’s more than nice to see you,” Bai returns. “Okay, I got your messages about your research, but I can’t hear you all excited when it’s just text. Go on, tell me about it.”

She’s not willing to waste time. I understand, so I tell her about everything I’ve done beside Lu’s side in the past year. I’ve earned enough headway to take part in proper research inputs. In return, she tells me about her studies in Hainan. Even with her program done, she’s been offered a position on the reserves to continue building optimal habitats. We’ve been moving forward on our paths, but it hasn’t changed enough that we still can’t chat like before.

A few hours of conversation and an empty teapot later, I stand up to stretch. Bai tugs the damp towel out from under her and folds it into a square. “Here, I’ll take that,” I offer, and she passes it over. “I need to grab you your graduation present anyway.”

Bai flops over onto the couch to lie on her stomach, eyes following me across the room. “Ooh, Ren present. Lucky me, I got you a souvenir, too.” I glace at the gift bag on the ground, but tissue paper blocks the inside view. “Heheh, it’s a super surprise, you know?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be surprised by mine, too.” I’m surprised I even bought it. Well, after this week Bai will be back in Hainan for at least another year. I could always make a trip there, but I’d rather do this now. I toss the towel into the laundry, brush off my hands on my slacks, and retrieve the flowerpot from its spot by the windowsill in my bedroom.

Bai’s flopped over onto her back when I return, but her humming cuts off when she catches sight of me. I set the pot down, the small collection of moss rosebuds—closed pink blooms with what appears to be moss up the stem and leaves—bouncing from the movement.

I sit so I’m not looking down on Bai so much. “They’ll need a bigger pot soon, but you should be able to get away with this as your carry on,” I supply.

“You know what those mean, right?” Bai sounds like she can’t decide whether to tease me or ask if I’m serious.

“Like I would give you a plant without some forethought.”

“What about the pretty Italian lady?”

“She went back home.”

Bai’s lips quirk a bit. “Italy isn’t the moon.”

“Hainan’s closer,” I say, poking at her forehead. Bai stares at my finger, then brushes it out of the way. She reaches for her gift bag, unpacks it herself, and presents a floral arrangement. The same moss rosebuds serve as the centerpieces, bloomed roses in red surrounding it. Bai flops down to her spot, her expression filled with expectation.

“Lotuses didn’t fit what I was going for. Sorry,” she whispers. “But no fair, Ren. I was hoping to see your face when I told you what they meant.”

I snort. Lightning flashes outside. I reach out my hand again, this time stopping above Bai’s head. She watches me for a bit, then wraps her fingers around mine before dropping our linked hands to the couch between us.

Bai closes her eyes, and so do I, enjoying the moment of flowers blooming in the thunder.

** 結 ** ** 束 **


	11. Bonuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter consists of some bonus episodes written after the initial ten chapters. Some were requests from my dear friend Chronic Guardian, while others were ideas I found myself wanting to explore more after writing the base set, including a "true ending/epilogue" of sorts. I hope you enjoy.

**Yěhuā**

A _Xiān Kè Lái_ Extras Collection

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

* * *

_Bonus 1. Lotus (28)_

* * *

The air in the parlor is thick, and not just with the cloud of incense. Mother sits in waiting, looking as graceful as ever. I’m in awe of how she can look so unaffected. Even Grandfather Zhang has a crinkle of unease between his eyebrows, and the pipe in his hand burns without him taking a single inhale. Jun and I sit side by side on the couch too caught up in our own fidgeting to be annoyed by the other. I try to take the even breaths of meditation, but they keep getting caught on the unease in my throat.

Father’s coming home today.

“Run, Lián,” Mother says, her voice gentle. Even so, my sister and I snap to attention. The past six months, we’ve been living without the pressure of Father’s presence over us. Knowing that peaceful time is at an end has been enough to make me feel sick, and I know Jun’s no better. Mother rolls the closed fan in her hands, eyes never leaving us. “I understand that this is difficult, but you know we’re doing this only because we think it’s safe. We wouldn’t otherwise.”

Jun’s eyes cast down into her lap. I can feel the throb in my skull like the bruises were still fresh. “I know we’ve talked about this,” Jun says, though she doesn’t look up. Given the situation, Mother doesn’t press for proper etiquette. “But what if things aren’t okay? What if—?” Jun looks to me, not having it in her to finish the sentence.

My mind provides several endings to her question, and none of them are tasteful.

“We won’t allow that again,” Grandfather Zhang says. He extinguishes his pipe, though the bite of the smoke still lingers, and sets it on the table. “The safety of both of you is our priority. If Yúan shows even the slightest signs of lashing out again, he’s no longer welcome here. Those are the conditions.”

I think that one shouldn’t need a threat to their shelter to not strike their own children, but everyone’s on edge enough that I keep it to myself.

Jun’s fingers run over her cheongsam, tracing the dragon flying across her skirt. “I just want everything to be okay.”

Mother’s lipstick presses into a thin red line. “We’ll be okay,” I say. The rest of my family looks to me, surprised by my certainty. I’m not certain at all. But either way, Father will be back in our lives soon, and I don’t plan on being controlled by my fear, even as it rumbles in my stomach like thunder. I pat Jun’s shoulder. “Show some resolve, Sister. We survived before, and we will survive this.”

My words may be just a show of foolish Tao pride. But it was that pride that allowed me to make it through being bullied in elementary school. That pride allowed me to stand up after Father knocked me unconscious. And that pride will allow me to face him now, the approach the challenge of letting him back into our lives.

Tears gloss over Jun’s eyes, but she blinks them back. Mother unfurls her fan to cover up her concern. Grandfather gives me a nod when I meet his gaze.

When Tao Yúan is escorted into the parlor, we face him as a family.

* * *

_Bonus 2. Lotus (29)_

* * *

Our final meeting for the day concludes, and the respectful silence fades into the shuffling of papers and smaller conversations. I gather up my own notes to pass onto Lu Yong; I’ll need to stop by the office one more time before heading home. I ease out of my chair, and Jeanne stands up beside me.

“Another productive day,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. The silver strands glimmer in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. Though I’ve been her guide for the past two weeks, her pale coloring still catches me off-guard. A small smile graces Jeanne’s lips. “You worked hard as well.”

“I could say the same about you.” I gesture for Jeanne to go first, and she glides towards the door. I follow, nodding to my coworkers as we exit. “You’re a guest here, and you’ve put in as much effort as our team, if not more.”

“It’s only natural. I wouldn’t want to reflect poorly on my company, after all.” That doesn’t stop her from looking pleased at the compliment, though. We catch a still idle elevator, and Jeanne presses the button for the floor before I can. “You’re going to drop that off before heading out, right?”

She gestures to my notes, the rest of her body in pristine posture. I straighten out the sheaf of papers, making sure not to crush them as the next elevator passengers shuffle in. “Yes, but you don’t need to accompany me. You’ve more than earned an evening of rest.”

Jeanne shakes her head, smile not once falling away. “I’d like to come with you, if that’s not a problem.” It isn’t, and I couldn’t provide a convincing counterargument. Not that I want to. Excellent. I enjoy your company, Ren. I was hoping I could take up a bit more of your time this evening.”

I’m about to accept, when the implications of what she’s asking occur to me. I don’t break eye contact, the small talk between the other passengers preventing a full-out silence. Jeanne looks away before I do, the bell of the elevator signaling that we’ve arrived at our floor. I pull myself together, tailing the click of Jeanne’s heels.

Is this a big moment, the kind I never considered I’d have time for? Or am I overthinking it, and it’s just another little moment that will pass me by if I don’t take advantage of it?

Given Jeanne’s small stature, it’s easy to catch up to her side in a couple of strides. “I appreciate your company, too,” I say, trying to get the words out before we reach the office. “If you didn’t have any place in mind for dinner, I have a few restaurants we could try.”

* * *

_Bonus 3. Aster (11)_

* * *

“Whoa, what do you guys have going on in here?”

I look up and wave at Dad, soil coating my fingers and smeared up my arms. Mom brushes off her hands onto the towel we set up next to the planter and stands up to hug Dad, stepping around the plants we’ve gathered on the living room floor. “Cuì Jú wanted to get more flowers,” she says. They trade off kisses, and I get back to separating the roots so they can spread out to the rest of the pot, the dirt moist to the touch. “The last batch looked so nice in the kitchen, I figure a few more wouldn’t hurt.”

“That’s fine by me.” Dad comes over and squats by me, looking over the bright cluster of warm colored blossoms. Satisfied with the dangling roots, I tuck in a red pansy next to a yellow one. “It’s very pretty, Cuì Jú. I’m glad you’re having fun with it.”

I nod a few times, strands of hair falling in my eyes. I need to clip it up or something. Saving that task for later, I try to pick out which flower to put into my arrangement next. “I was looking up stuff about flowers, and pansies apparently stand for remembrance,” I say, counting out each blossom’s five petals. “It’s cool there’s a whole language for these things. You think I could learn them all?”

Mom and Dad exchange amused glances, but Dad settles onto the floor, plucking a discarded flower tag from the empty plastic trays. It has the basic care instructions printed on it, but I looked that much up already. “I’m sure you could if you wanted to.” I don’t even look up, nodding. I think it’d be fun to try. “Just make sure to keep an eye on these. You wouldn’t want them to wilt.”

“I know, I know!” Mom chuckles and excuses herself to start on dinner. I pick out an orange pansy and pull it from its tray, making sure not to break the stem in the process. “Hm, I think I saw something that pansies are descended from violets. Plants have their own families, too, huh?”

“I guess they do,” Dad says, leaning back on his palms and watching me work. “Do you know what violets stand for then?”

I hum, trying to pull it from my memory, but it doesn’t come to me. “Nope! I’ll look it up later, though.” I turn the pansy in my hands, letting it catch the sunlight before holding it out to Dad. “Here, help me put this together. It’s a lot more fun to do this with company.”

Dad looks wary, but he gives in to my insistence, a laugh rolling out of his mouth and across his shoulders. “Okay, but I can’t promise it’ll be as pretty as you make it look.”

“That’s okay,” I say, letting him take the plant into his fingers. “As long as we do it together, it’ll be perfect.”

* * *

_Bonus 4. Lotus (30)_

* * *

“Whoa, so this is where you grew up,” Asakura says, his jaw hanging open like a simpleton. His expression is mirrored on the rest of the group behind him, save Anna, who would never make such an undignified expression. Up in the mountains, the press of summer isn’t too stifling, but the sun is still bent on beating down over all of us. “It’s huge.”

“You say that like your family’s estate is any different,” I say. Sure, the Asakura’s home in Izumo isn’t as tall as Tao castle, but they still own an impressive tract of land. The spoils of old shamanic families are nothing to sneeze at. The hired help bows as they come out to the car, starting to sort out the luggage. “You’ll have plenty of time to gape over the architecture later. Let’s get inside.” I don’t want Mother will say if I don’t play my role as host well enough.

Everyone files inside, chattering amongst themselves. It’s been some years since we’ve seen each other in person, but there aren’t much changes to note. Anna still marches Asakura all over the place, Ryu hasn’t stopped prattling about meeting my sister (I’ll let Bailong speak for himself), Horohoro can’t seem to lower his voice worth shit, and Oyamada hasn’t grown a damn centimeter. The biggest difference is in Tamao, with her longer hair and more confident posture, but stutters still pepper her sentences.

While we’ve been in varying levels of contact, I didn’t realize how I missed being in their collective presence.

“For a summer trip, we could’ve done much worse,” Anna says, tucking a sleeping Hana close to her hip. I know she’s beyond pleased that Oyamada offered to cover most of the travel expenses. The servants finish setting up tea, and Anna nods at them in appreciation. “Yoh, you need to make the onsen more popular. This is the sort of standard of living we should be in.”

“Aww, but home’s so comfy the way it is now.”

That’s enough for Anna to launch into another one of the never-ending lectures she gives her husband. Their son sleeps right through it. I make sure everyone’s settled before taking a seat myself. There’s still some time before our last few guests will be able to arrive. Oyamada’s admiring the architecture and decor, pointing out some of our antiques to Tamao. It’s too bad Bai couldn’t make it, but summer in Hainan is lush with research possibilities, and I wouldn’t deny her the opportunity.

“Real cheongsam, though,” Ryu says to himself, draining his cup of tea like a tankard of beer.

“Forget that,” Horohoro says, mouth half-full. “Did you see those mountains on the way up here? I’d love to take my board down one of those. Hey, Ren, let me come back here in winter, dammit.”

I flick my eyes up to his, keeping my expression as deadpan as possible. “What makes you think I’d let you into my home a second time?”

“Don’t be so stingy!”

The disjointed conversations come together as we talk about what’s all transpired since we’ve last seen each other, and the minutes turn to hours. Anna and Yoh are transforming the old Funbari Onsen into a proper tourist spot (Asakura Anna will never let something as simple as raising a child interfere with her goals), with Tamao and Ryu’s labor as assistance, Oyamada’s taken to first-hand experience in his family’s company, and Horohoro brags about the work he and his sister have done on preserving the Ainu culture and restoring the lands in their reserve. Lyserg and Joco arrive in due time, and they meld into the group like they’ve always been there. I can’t think of any other reason than the sheer capacity Asakura has for drawing other people in.

The night drags on, and Asakura lets out a large yawn, bringing most of us along with him. “I think I’ll get some rest,” Tamao says, standing first. Ryu nods his agreement. “We have a whole week, so that’s plenty of time to catch up. Good night, everyone.” There are likeminded murmurs, and even Anna hefts up a once again sleeping Hana to retire for the night. I expect Asakura to join the hired-help escort to his room, but he just looks at me, that same old stupid grin stretching over his face.

“Go to bed,” I say. Tiredness prickles at my eyes, but I refuse to rub it away. “You’re obnoxious enough on a regular basis. I’m not going to deal with you delirious from not sleeping.”

“Ehehe, there’s plenty of time to sleep in the morning,” Asakura says. I’m sure Anna will disagree with that sentiment. There’s an energy in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. “But you promised me that the stars look awesome out here. I’ve gotta see it while I get the chance.”

I could say that he’ll have a whole week’s worth of chances. But I remember the view at Izumo, the way it swallowed us up until there was no earth, just sky. And I wouldn’t be a Tao if I didn’t blow that experience away with everything at my disposal.

I rise, stretching out before turning around, not even checking if Asakura catches the hint to follow. “By all means. I hope you can handle the trip. It’s quite a climb to the top.”

The rest of Tao castle is dead quiet in the night, but Asakura’s steps echo behind mine.

* * *

_Bonus 5. Wildflowers (4)_

* * *

As morning for the Tao family started before sunrise, it was only natural that the days of their servants started even before that.

The regular bustle of the twenty members of the morning shift migrating from their lodgings to the castle proper broke apart the crisp air of the last of the night. Carrying on in a manner befitting of the Taos themselves, Shu and Kyo lead the procession before they all split off into their regular roles. A quick breakfast preceded the aromas of dòuhuā and zongzi of the family proper’s morning meal. Zhang’s divination chamber was aired out, dust swept from Yúan’s meditation hall, and tea steeped to perfection before being brought to the conservatory.

The men of the Tao family may have been early risers, but Ran had always greeted morning the earliest. Following tradition that had lasted for decade, Shu and Kyo and made sure everything else was in order before tending to their matriarch.

With autumn outside, the warmth of the conservatory was even more apparent, set to accommodate the latest set of endangered species that had been brought to under the Tao’s care. Shu carted in the tea set, Kyo following in his wake. Ran was already seated in her chair beneath a canopy of vines; she hadn’t once arrived after them since she was a little girl, and, even as she ascended through age, it seemed she had no interest in doing so.

“Good morning, Kyo, Shu.”

“Good morning, Lady Ran.”

Even with formalities in place, the greetings were spoken with great affection. Tea was served, and no one said any more until Ran took the first sip and nodded her approval.

“How are preparations going today?”

The first question had changed since her youth, but the routine was familiar enough. Yúan may have been the patriarch, and Ren would one day take that place, but Shu and Kyo would always see Ran as their proper mistress, the strength that pulled the family together through bonds both made of an absent of bloodline.

Kyo took the lead, elaborating on the various states of the servants, the family’s schedules, as well as preparations for Ran’s multiple charity projects. Kyo would add his occasional interjections, and Ran would take the news in, working her way through two teacups before acknowledging that breakfast was upon them and it was time to move on with the day.

Shu and Kyo cleared the tea set, gave their lady their well wishes, and returned to their duties throughout the castle.

* * *

_Bonus 6. Lotus & Aster (Roots)_

* * *

The open window allows the breeze to override the smell of fresh paint and jostle the vine hung over the window frame. It’s afternoon, and early summer beckons for me to go for a run, to learn the new paths available to take. But my workout for the day is already accounted for as I continue the task of unpacking the rest of my belongings into the new house. Most of the essentials are in place, but that does little to make the place feel like home.

I roll up my sleeves and heft up the next box from the collection against the wall and let it drop to the bed, creasing the covers. A few seconds of picking at the tape later, I pry the box open, expecting to see the books that need to be unloaded onto the waiting shelves. Instead, I find my sole box of miscellaneous items that didn’t fit anywhere else. While they do need to be unpacked, I’d planned to save them for when everything else was in place. It must’ve gotten mixed around while the movers brought everything in.

Repressing a sigh, I start unloading the box anyway. It’s all going to have to come out sometime; might as well get it over with. I stuff the packing paper into a waiting trash bag and start to puzzle out where to put everything: a few trinkets my sister bought me can go to my office, the spare flower pots will have contents to fill them soon enough, some old shrine tokens from Japan should be put into an album before they start crumbling, and the empty picture frames can be put into storage. I take trips in and out of the bedroom, still adjusting to the unfamiliar home’s layout, enjoying the new furniture and the amount of space. It’s not as much as my old apartment, but there’s plenty of room for everything necessary.

Closer to the bottom of the collection of knickknacks, I find another, smaller box. The surface is black and smooth, and the top slides off. The poof of stale air hits me, and I remember just why I haven’t opened it in so long.

Despite their age, the color of the photos hasn’t faded at all, preserved in the dark as they have been. There aren’t many pictures of my family together, even before we started to crack apart. But my mother has taste, and the ones that to exist are all from the fleeting moments when we were happy and family outings were common. My chest doesn’t ache, even as I flip through them. Jun and I are nothing but children, and in a lot of the pictures I’m not even old enough to remember what was happening. If it weren’t for these photos, I wouldn’t have any idea most of these events had happened at all.

But they did happen, at one point, even if it seems unbelievable with proof.

“Ren!”

Cuì Jú’s leaning in the window, a grin on her face and the traces of a sunburn tinting her skin. She looks no less perturbed by the sweat on her brow or the smears of dirt on her pastel clothes. There’s even a weed stuck in her brown hair. I shuffle the photos into a straight stack again and return them to their box. Bai leans as far into the window as she can manage, squinting at the miscellaneous items I still have across our bed. “How’s unpacking going? Is there gonna be enough room for both of us in here?”

I snort, letting her catch the roll of my eyes. “I think with you involved, I’m going to be pushed out by the plants.” Cuì Jú giggles, tapping one of the vine’s leaves. The sunlight shines around her, and if I didn’t see her eat, I’d be convinced she gets her energy from photosynthesis. “What about you? Are you done tearing up the backyard yet?”

“You promised me a garden!” Cuì Jú huffs, but she can’t look cross for the life of her. “I am doing exactly what we agreed on, buddy. You can do whatever you want with the house, but outside is all mine.”

“I wouldn’t be so foolish to try and argue otherwise.” Deciding there’s not much else I can do with the remains of the box until I see what sort of shelf space we have left, I start to load the remains back up. “If you stop every half hour to come and check on me, though, I’ll be done long before you are.”

Bai hums, trying to formulate a response. I pick up the last item from the bed, but the hitch of Bai’s gasp distracts me. “Whatcha got there?”

“This?” I turn back to Cuì Jú, feeling conscious even though we’ve drawn closer over the past few years. The plush tiger hangs from my grip by a paw, threadbare, but still in one piece. “I’ve had him since I was an infant. He’s nothing special.”

“Are you kidding me? I love him.” She reaches through the window but seems to realize the dirt on her hands. I’m almost thirty, but I’m relieved to have an excuse not to hand him over. “I used to have this snow leopard when I was a kid that I dragged all over the place. She got lost when we moved apartments, though. What’s his name?”

I don’t even have the excuse of being in the sun to blame for the red that must be creeping up my neck. “Hǔ.”

Cuì Jú’s laugh sounds like windchimes. “You named your tiger ‘Tiger.’ That’s adorable.”

“I named him when I was two.”

“Hey, no judgement, no judgement.” Bai presses her dirt-dusted fingers against the window frame and leans back, hair rippling in a fresh breeze. “Hǔ is perfect, and he’s more than welcome in our home.” The smile on her face is unmistakable when she says it. This is our home now, a place we can have to stay connected to the world, unlike the castle at Guizhou, but still enough away from the city that you can feel the nature around us. “You should keep him out, Ren. I bet he doesn’t like being cooped up in a box all the time.”

I look again at Hǔ, with his beads for eyeballs and faded orange coat. Cuì Jú’s too distracted by the wind to notice as I step up to the window. “Fair point,” I say, then bat Hǔ’s paw against her forehead. She blinks, then boops her nose against it. “I don’t like being cooped up inside all the time, either, so make the backyard a great place for us to spend our time.”

Cuì Jú salutes before leaning up quick enough to sneak in a kiss. “You got it,” she says before skipping off. A shovel, trowels, bags of fertilizer, and a whole toolbox’s worth of seeds wait for her on the other end of the backyard. “I’ll make the best garden ever. And the first step to any good flower is making sure you have the right soil for it to thrive in, you know!”

And while that may be true, I can’t help but feel that the real secret to flourishing is in having the courage to put down some roots.


End file.
